


the rattle and the hum

by callmearcturus



Series: The Hunters Initiative [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Avengers fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmearcturus/pseuds/callmearcturus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(sequel to <i>an old-fashioned notion</i>) Ingredients: one economist gone megalomanic, one British army major with a series of deadly explosions to investigate, one alien warrior-prince who just wants a vacation with his boyfriend, and two engineers too clever by half. Mix well. Pour into frosted glass and garnish with one dangerous technology called Extremis and one mysterious new element. Serve. You've now created a goddamn clusterfuck. ((NOW COMPLETE!))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. fragments

It was the first time that Dan had been to California and he wished it were under better circumstances. It'd be nice if he could go out and look at the place that popular culture had taught him was the epicenter of sun and beautiful people and excitement. He was man with a dress uniform and an accent that the birds couldn't get enough of, and instead of taking advantage of that, he was wearing a mask over his mouth and picking through the rubble of what once was a building in Silicon Valley.

It was a brand new government complex used to provide support to various programs and agencies on the West Coast. It's a bit dull, truth be told, but it's the latest in a line.

Glasgow. London. Stockholm. Kyoto. Berlin. Bath. Now Silicon Valley had joined the string of hits. The majority had been research labs and contractor offices, all of them dealt an explosive blow, one that burned so hot, so long, it reduced everything in its radius to slag.

That level of sustained heat was mad. Even with his travel time factored in, he had to wait a few hours before it was safe to explore the scene, and _even then_ his shoes took on an oddly bendy quality that made him worry about their longevity.

The Americans ignored him for the most part. That would've been good if it wasn't for the fact that Dan had been in various scenes like this and still had little new information to show for it. Some communication would've be nice, actually, but getting more than a few syllables out of the yanks was proving to be tough.

He sighed and nudged aside some blackened crusted material that was laying on the other blackened crusted material. There was a gleam, something _not_ reduced to slag. Dan looked around, checking, but no one was paying attention to him. Typical. He bent down, picked up the slim metal box he found, and tucked it into his pocket for later.

It was probably nothing, but it was more than anyone on the scene had given him, so he wasn't inclined to share.

Only one person even looked at him, a woman in an expensive looking suit, an obvious firearm holster under her suit coat, and dark red hair pulled back into a ponytail. Everyone else was giving her a wide berth, but her eyes were keen on him in a way that reminded him more of pulling at a bar than being on the clock.

She approached him, each step crunching, her killer combat boots more suited for the hot ground than his shoes. "Major Gruchy, right?"

"Yeah? I mean, yes?" Someone actually speaking to him was unexpected.

"I'm Agent Tuggey, assigned to this case. Your American counterpart, if you like." She smiled, but it was businesslike, formal.

"Pleasure. What can I do for you?" He was very, very aware of the weight in his pocket and fought to keep his hands still at his sides.

"Just hoping to pick your brain. Looks like your bomber's crossed the Atlantic. You've been to all the locations, right?"

“Second incident onward, yeah. First was written off as some freak accident.” His face got grim. “Then they kept coming.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any theories on the perpetrators that you’re keeping close to your chest?” She crossed her arms and continued to crunch through the wreckage. It never stopped amazing him, how _everything_ was destroyed. It made the small piece he’d found all the more remarkable.

He could’ve shared it with her. But watching her pace was like watching a lioness on the prowl and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his gut.

“Besides the obvious? I mean, terrorists, clearly, but we don’t know any groups with this kind of bang in their repertoire. So likely they’ve teamed up with someone who does, who’s picking the targets.”

“No one’s claimed responsibility.”

“ _Plenty_ of groups have claimed responsibility. But only after the third one, and none are actual suspects. Everyone wants the credit without the work.” He turned to watch Tuggey, not keen on leaving his back to her. “What about you?”

She stopped and looked around like seeing the scene for the first time. “Me? I think we’ve got an escalation on our hands.” An expansive gesture, encompassing the while once-building lead her into, “This is the first purely government facility they hit.”

“S’a weird place to start...” He frowned. “What was all in here?”

Tuggey pulled a odd glass rectangle out of her pocket and tapped at it a few times. Dan realized with a start that it was a tablet of some kind and tried to ignore the feeling of envy he felt in his gut. Technology hard-ons were not professional, but difficult to avoid; he’d learned to revere technology from one of his mates years and years ago, and it was not an easy habit to break.

“It was a new facility. The only fully-functional office was... the patent office.”

They shared a look of dawning understanding.

It was Dan who broke first. “I’ve got to report to my people. We’ll take a closer look, see if there European hits were predated by something like that.”

Tuggey nodded, tucking her tablet away. “Thanks for sharing your expertise, Major.” She smiled, and looked like an actual person instead of a government drone for a moment. “I’d say I hope to see you again--”

“Yeah, let’s hope we don’t. Or at least under better circumstances.” He shook her hand. “Thank you, Agent Tuggey.”

He left the wreckage in a hurry, head whirling. He needed to have a sit down and a good think about this.

 

* * *

 

His hotel room wasn’t great, but it had little bottles of Baileys in the minifridge. Dan spent just enough time to fill up his ice bucket and pour himself a drink in a little plastic tumbler before finally emptying his pockets.

The landscape was a bit different now. They’d had the full string of events on European soil, and now whoever was doing this was gearing up to do the same in America. He didn’t envy Tuggey for what she now had to go and tell her superiors, that this was just the beginning and that it’d be civilian installations next.

A patent office was a recon target. The information it would have could paint a map full of future locations. But it also told Dan something else; that these fuckers _were looking for something._

He pulled a pair of gloves on before cracking open the metal box he’d taken. It fought a bit-- just because it wasn’t reduced to slag didn’t mean it was in great shape.

With a metallic groan, it came open. The inside was pristine; the box was thick and sturdy, protecting it’s contents well.

Dan wasn’t sure what he was looking at. There were five slots, four of which were full of shiny cartridges. He picked up one, examining it. It was just a piece of metal with a glass tube mounted in the center, full of... something. There was also an injection needle.

This was beyond what he could handle in the States on his own. If he networked with Tuggey, she’d likely have lab resources to analyse whatever the damn things were, but he’d never see the bloody results; Americans weren’t big on sharing once they got their hands on something. And, admittedly, Dan was no different.

So he did what he could when he had a bunch of mysterious objects that needed analysis and an upcoming string of high-tech bombs ready to go off across America.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, trying not to be nervous. They’d not spoken for almost a year, and Dan knew a lot had changed. He was apparently dating Mogar the Thunderhead, for god’s sake.

When the line picked up, he said, “Hey, B, hey, it’s B.” He smiled into the receiver. “Yeah, I’m in your neck of the woods and... I need a favor.”

 


	2. the rattle

It was nice to have a home to go back to, Michael thought as he flew into Austin airspace. The Ramsey-Free residence wasn’t precisely his home, but it was as close as he got to such a thing on Earth. It was the only house he had a fucking key to, for fuck’s sake, and that little gesture went a long way.

He didn’t use the key, mind. Around the third time he went to the ranch house to relax after one of his trips abroad and around the world, he found a small balcony had been added to Gavin’s room with a bulletproof glass door that slid open when he stood before it. That was his landing zone this time, and it allowed him to get inside, strip, and hop in the shower before running into anyone. It was nice to take a moment to douse himself with hot water and wash off the sweat and ichor he’d been covered in.

Walking downstairs, Michael finished pulling a tee on. It was a weird luxury, to have soft, well-worn cotton against his skin instead of armor. He took the last steps to the ground floor landing in one leap, letting the momentum carrying him into the living room.

Geoff didn't even look away from the TV, where a basketball game was on. "Hey, Sparky, how was Moscow?"

"Nice. Had some fucking awesome sushi, actually." He stood over Geoff in the armchair, watching the game for a moment. Spurs, Geoff's team of choice. "I miss anything?"

"First half."

"No, I mean..." Michael sighed, and figured he was already pretty much an open book to the Ramseys. "Gav?"

Geoff snorted. "Man, you are fucking whipped... Can't you use your alien GPS?"

"I try not to." Just the words made that subtle awareness, the background radiation of his life, key up. He felt Gavin, down in the labs, but that much was expected. "What's the project of the week?"

"Some fucking new element thing Griffon and the labs stumbled upon.” He took a deep pull of beer before coughing and shouting at the screen, “Hold onto the fucking ball!”

“New element?”

“Yeah, it’s a big deal-- YES! Move that ass, you beautiful bastard, go!”

Michael rolled his eyes and headed for the labs. It’d probably just be faster to check on Gavin himself than get anything out of Geoff when he was in sports mode. He didn't quite understand the enthusiasm, but humans didn't have the sort of sporting that Michael had back in his realm, with the hunting of grand beasts and the magic duels that put the best Earth pyrotechnic displays to shame.

That didn't matter though. Whatever made Geoff Ramsey happy was worthwhile by that qualifier alone; the man had enough of his plate on a daily basis.

Michael indulged a bit, feeling out for the Bifrost pendant until it lead him to the door of the fabrication lab on the second sub-level. He tried the door, but it didn't move. Instead, he heard a doorbell ring from deep inside the room before a screen on the wall flickered on.

Griffon was peering through at him, and she could apparently see him in return; she pushed her goggles of her eyes, holding her hair back, and greeted him with a mild, "Well, look what the cat dragged in. Nice to see you, Michael."

Michael heard a tinny crash and then Gavin's voice, bright as a sunspot. "Michael? Is it him, has he come back?" His face appeared next to Griffon's, or at least his nose and one eye. "Let me see!"

Griffon snorted and shoved Gavin back out of shot. "Keep watching the monitors, moon over your boy later."

"Can I come in? Say hi?" Michael asked, trying the door again. It was still locked.

"Yes!" Gavin shouted, voice too enthusiastic for the speakers, causing an electronic squeal.

" _No_ ," Griffon countered over him. "We're doing extremely delicate work right now and given your track record with technology, you need to steer clear." Gavin started whining loudly in the background, but she ignored him with a practiced deafness that told of years of ignoring Gavin when he got noisy. "We'll be up for dinner."

Gavin forced his way into frame again. "I'll talk to you later, boy. Oh! Ooh, you cut your hair!"

"Monitors! We are _not_ cooking up another batch of this shit today, Gavin!" Before Michael could say anything further, the feed cut.

He stared at the door for a moment, feeling bereft. After spending so long away-- well, it was selfish to show up and expect Gavin to drop everything to see him, but he would have liked, as stupid as it sound, a kiss hello or something like that. Anything more than a few words through a video screen.

He needed a drink suddenly, and retreated back upstairs, to the kitchen to grab a beer. He joined Geoff in front of the TV, trying to quickly figure out the rules to the game.

Geoff looked across the room at him and smiled, tight with sympathetic eyes. "It probably doesn't make it better, but I haven't seen Griffon much either. They've been at it day and night."

Michael nodded mutely. It's didn't help to hear that, but he appreciated the gesture.

He appreciated the beer more, slouching back into the loveseat and drinking deeply, trying to find that feeling of _home_ he was looking for.

 

* * *

 

Geoff waited fifteen minutes for the lab duo to emerge when it's time for dinner before making a low growl and venturing down to the labs himself. It was another five minutes before he returned with wife and adopted son in tow, both still in lab coats and looking tired. Gavin laid eyes on Michael and crossed the room in three long strides, giving Michael barely enough time to stand up before he was wrapped up in his arms.

Gavin hugged him tightly, murmuring, "Welcome back," into Michael's temple. His hands swept up, carding through Michael's hair. "Ooooh, it is short."

"Don't like it?" Michael pressed his lips to the corner of Gavin's mouth, sharp and quick before breaking away and sitting down again. Gavin excitedly did the same, scooting his chair closer to Michael's until their legs were pressed together.

"Nah, you're still a ten, don't you fret." He smiled, happy and cheerful, like Michael's presence had completely turned his day around. Michael smiled back, hooking his ankle around Gavin's under the table.

"Fucking Christ, we're still doing the honeymoon period, huh?" Griffon muttered, sitting down heavily.

"You look beat," Michael commented lightly.

She let out a strained groan that morphed into a coo as Geoff set a tall glass in front of her. "I fucking love you," she told him and drank deeply. The drink was clear, but Michael doubted it was water. "Goddamn, that's good." She wiped her mouth with her thumb, then sucked the stray liquor off her skin. "Okay, so. Russia."

"Good food, really good sushi, cold soup is weird. I got one of those furry hats," Michael reported. "Nice this time of year. Only a few things needed to be hammered into submission."

"Sounds a treat," Gavin said, then cut an oddly nervous look to Griffon. When Geoff handed him a plate of corned beef, he took the opportunity to stare at his food, ears red.

 _Huh_ , Michael thought, but said, "Yeah. So, what's going on here? Geoff says you guys are busy with something."

Griffon looked to Geoff. "You didn't tell him about it?"

Geoff shrugged. "Look, I know it's a big deal and it's really exciting and it's going to make us even more stupidly rich, but that doesn't mean I actually know what it is."

"You're such a dumb," Gavin said. "It's not hard!" He looked to Michael. "Griffon was working with the synthesis lab at HQ, the _reeeeeally_ big one, right? And they accidentally made a new artificial element."

Human science was not his bag. "And that's.... good? Good, right." Michael nodded along.

"It's weird and amazing. See, in its raw form, it's weak as shit and basically can't sustain itself-- it's this thick gaseous thing," Griffon said, waving her fork around in the air. "It dissipates very quickly."

"But," Gavin jumped in, "if you apply it to _other_ things, it acts as this brilliant stabilizer. Like, okay, the repulsor gloves on the Iron Man suit, we have to regularly repair because the heat of the blasts melts the thingy-bits on the palms. But this new element, if we make an alloy with it, it carries all the same properties but doesn't heat up the same, so the next set of gloves we make won't need repairs for-bloody-ever." His smile was full of almost a manic-level of excitement.

"Cool," Michael said.

" _Very_ cool."

"At this point, we're just adding it into everything we can. It makes stronger, less reactive metals. And I've got the medical science team at RE trying to add it into some treatment therapies to see how it does there." Griffon bit her lip, avoiding a toothy grin. "It might have more applications than even we can think of."

Michael looked at Gavin and nodded. "Okay, very cool."

"Yes." He snickered. "I'm already thinking of names. Does Lloydium sound good?"

"We are not naming a new element after your cat," Geoff said.

"Ramfreemium, for us?"

" _Christ_ , no."

"Austinion?"

Geoff's mouth twisted. "Maybe."

"Lets finish the lab tests first," Griffon said over them. "We're doing work to see if it can stabilize the arc reactor technology on a large scale. If things come back green, we can restart that old energy initiative."

"That'll take forever," Gavin commented, voice oddly tense. He'd gone back to looking at his plate.

"That's the business."

Gavin hummed, and the conversation slowed. There was something uncomfortable about the lull, so Michael filled it with nonsense about his latest journey globetrotting, the places he'd been, the things he smashed, the folks in between. It helped, but Gavin kept cutting Griffon these wandering glances, each time looking away with a pinched expression.

Yeah, he was gonna need to know what was going on there.

After dinner, plates were cleared away and Geoff slung an arm around Griffon's shoulders. "Hey. Hey. Come on."

"Innovation waits for no man, Geoff," she told him, trying to duck under his arm.

Latching on, he whined. "I see no men here. I see a gorgeous, amazing woman, a twink, an alien, and a dude who misses seeing his family out of the labs."

Griffon sighed, looking at him. "Geoff..."

He gave her a whiskery kiss on the cheek. "Come on, babe. I want to see my wife sometime this week, and I'm sure Michael feels the same about his, and he's been in fucking Russia."

Michael sputtered, but let it go; it made Griffon smile. "Well. I could use an actual REM cycle before getting the next trials going."

"I'll get your REMs cycling," Geoff said, making no sense but seeming happy about it. With a roguish wink, he pulled Griffon along, to the stairs, going up rather than down.

Gavin, who'd watched passively as the argument went down and was resolved, met Michael's eyes and grinned. "So I have a night off."

"Is that unusual?"

"Bloody hell, _yes_ ," he said, emphatic. Then, "So, upstairs?"

There wasn't anything sexy about trudging along up the stairs and to Gavin's room. They had both been working for weeks, and for once Michael didn't pull his trick of carrying Gavin along. He didn't have it in him, just wanted to rest in a familiar bed with a familiar body.

There was no finesse to it when Gavin kissed him. It wasn't romantic, but it was honest and intimate in an entirely different way that was just as good. It helped Michael shuck off some of the soreness that had settled into his bones, making him feel less brittle, like dried earth finally getting a good rain that healed its cracks and breaks.

Mostly because he knew it annoyed Gavin to have his slight height advantage cancelled out, Michael rose up on his toes and then lifted off the ground two inches as they kissed. Predictably, Gavin made a soft annoyed sound, putting his hands on Michael’s shoulders and pushing down. Michael laughed against his mouth and obligingly touched down.

Gavin pushed some more, because Gavin did little else in life than push people, urging them to reaction to suit his curiosity and thirst for entertainment. Any other day, Michael would push back and battle him, but this time he went down easy, sitting on the bed when his knees bumped into it.

Gavin looked down at him, taking Michael’s face between his hands and dragging his thumbs over his cheeks. “Hey... Are you all right? You’re not stoically concealing some big achy hurt, are you?”

Taking Gavin’s hand in his, Michael kissed the palm reassuringly. “No. I’m just a little worn out.”

“You can take a break. You don’t have to always be out there fighting the good fight.” He slowed down, taking a moment to unknot the string of Michael’s shorts, helping him out of them before skating cool fingertips under his shirt and pulling it off. “Is that--” He traced a mark on Michael’s ribs, a light bruise.

“Still healing,” Michael murmured, putting his hand against Gavin’s so his palm was flat against it. “I’m fine, I swear.”

“Well,” Gavin sighed, “looks like I’ll just need to take care of you for now.” He smiled and kissed Michael, long and sweet, pushing him down onto the bed.

Michael did feel very well cared for as Gavin drowned him in his attentions. As tired as he was, he was still sheathed, and Gavin took his time working Michael up. His hands pet over Michael’s body, taking stock like he was reassuring himself Michael was all right before following each touch with his mouth. It took time, but Michael relaxed and opened, gradual and easy.

Gavin smiled, making a comment or two about how lovely Michael was. He worked Michael up further with his mouth, his face pressed into the lavender bulges until Michael woke up. His breath came sharper as Gavin licked at him, paying attention to each tendril, mouthing his main tentacle.

With the same amount of care, he turned Michael over onto his belly and opened him up with clever fingers. Michael was on his knees, head laying on a pillow, arms wrapped around it. It was quiet but fulfilling to just let Gavin take care of him. The slow stretch around fingers and then further around Gavin’s dick felt good, especially once Gavin tangled a hand in Michael’s bulge, a loose grip that was easy to languidly rub against.

Being fucked slow and intent put him into an almost meditative state. Huffing and groaning, he took everything Gavin gave him until they both came. The rush of it, the way his toes curled and how he twined around Gavin’s hand, it wiped away a lot of his pains and weariness, replacing them with a soft heat in his gut and a tiredness that was post-coital, not post-long fucking trip.

So he gave in and slept for a while with Gavin's weight solid and comforting next to him.

He woke up, deep in the middle of night, to the soft glow of Gavin's tablet. Squinting, he made out Gavin laying across his body, leaning over his tablet that was settled on Michael's chest. He was working without a stylus, long fingers tracing over the glass screen.

Michael could see and feel the pendant hanging around Gavin's neck. His eyes blurrily focused on it, and Gavin looked down as it warmed, starting to glow under the weight of Michael's attention. He smiled at Michael. "Hey, lovely boy. Go back to sleep."

"Why're you workin'?" Michael mumbled, rubbing his face. "I mean, seriously, you should be sleeping."

"I'm not working, you silly donut." He tipped the tablet, and Michael could see he was playing some colorful matching game. "I'm not used to more than naps, really. With all the work that's been going on..."

His skin was warm under Michael's palm as he ran his hand up and down Gavin's back. The supple flesh made him want to just roll them over so he could get his fingers dug into Gavin, finding the places where he was tense and knotted, and taking his time untying him. Gavin leaned back into every touch like a cat, happily taking in everything Michael gave him.

"You should come with me sometime," Michael said. "I was thinking about Australia next. You'd love the beaches."

Gavin shut off his tablet and tossed it aside with his habitual lack of concern. In a second he'd tucked himself against Michael, trying to wiggle in close. "That sounds nice."

Michael tried to look down at him, but he was cinched too close. "But...?"

Gavin shrugged, and Michael wondered what the problem was. Before he could press further, he was derailed by a splash of color he spotted on Gavin's arm just under the shoulder. Michael coaxed the Bifrost chuck to glow a little brighter before thumbing the mark. "Did you get a tattoo?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Gavin smiled and squirmed until he could show off his arm. It was a series of dots and lines, draw into his skin with careful precision. "Griffon did it for me. I had to get pretty blitzed beforehand though."

"What's it mean?"

Gavin quirked an eyebrow. "What do yours?"

Michael exhaled hard through his nose. That was fair. His arms were wrapped in dark symbols, each band a winding story of his exploits, a record of the lives he'd saved and the ones he'd destroyed. They were in an antiquated character set from his realm, and Michael-- he didn't _dislike_ them, but they were a part of him that he carried with him but didn't like to dwell on.

Gavin had tried to convince him to translate a few into Allspeak, but Michael never did. Maybe it was cowardly, but he didn't want Gavin to know the details.

He felt lips tracing one band of symbols before Gavin kissed him full and sound. It was clumsy but heartfelt, the both of them mouthing at each other for a few moments. It was Gavin who eventually drew back with a sigh.

"I have to sleep. Griffon's gonna want me in the fab lab bright and early."

"You sound thrilled."

"I need to learn this shit," Gavin groused, shaking his head. "I know that. It's important. But it's still..." He shut his eyes and lay his head down again. "Australia sounds great."

That brought a pang to Michael's chest. That was pretty much a no on going with Michael to Australia, and it stung. He palmed Gavins neck, fingers combing through the hair at the base of his neck. He'd hoped--

But again. It wasn't fair of him to stroll in and expect to earn Gavin's attention just by existing nearby. Still, it would've been nice, just for a while. He wanted Gavin like this, in quiet Texas nights and when he was manic from overwork and discovery.

But Michael's day to day was travel. He carried his life in his skin and on his back. He got interested in human architecture and enjoyed comparing urban centers and their powerlines like spider webs to open farmland where there were more sheep than people, when he could fly low and fast or even buy a motorcycle and rocket down highways. He walked with as much of the planet as he could, but it was a lonely walk. With Gavin, though...

Michael shook his head before burying his nose in Gavin's hair and trying not to clutch him too tightly.


	3. the art of holding a grudge, part 2

Joel Heyman looked through the print-outs that had been recovered by his people from Silicon Valley's patent office and searched for his golden bullet.

This was no easy task for an economist. His domain was numbers and markets and how to turn his tuppence into a fortune, occasionally doing the reverse to his enemies. Call him the modern Midas. Or not. Midas was plenty modern already. Gold was where it was at, even after all this time.

But anyway. Not important. What was important was the list of filed patents that was spread across a long oak conference table. He sorted through each stack of papers, eyes peeled for what he was looking for.

"Next time," he said sourly, "try to staple the fucking pages before blowing the place."

Chris bobbed his head. "Understood, Mr. Heyman."

"I mean, jesus, who thought it was a good idea to print out a five reams of paperwork and then just not use any kind of organizational model?"

Chris looked down at his PDA. "It was... Johannes."

Joel nodded and suppressed the urge to grimace. Another volunteer for the Extremis who didn't make it. He rested his hands flat against the table and breathed out slowly. Numbers, he knew. He knew that people like Johannes who signed up were the majority of his people. 78.5 percent. Walking time bombs. Trending upward.

Joel was not a scientist but he could see patterns in figures and knew things were getting worse.

He needed his golden bullet. Soon.

"Uh, sir," Chris said, nervous, his eyes low. Joel followed his gaze to his own hand. The skin was fiery, like a radioactive rash, the tiny creases in his skin seeming to grow further apart to reveal the red-gold glow of what lay underneath. It was like hot coals hidden under his skin and looked demonic to say the least.

Joel took a deep breath, willing himself to be calm, and watched his flesh settle. The apparent gaps in his skin healed themselves within a minute.

"Does it..." Chris's voice faltered and he looked down at his PDA quickly.

Joel sighed. " _What_ , Demarais?"

Lips twisted as Chris looked up at him again. "It looks like it hurts."

With a soft snort, the bubble of tense worry that had been expanding in Joel's chest burst. Careful and deliberate, he held up his hand and drew on the hot metal feeling that was running through his body. His fingers burned with light and heat. "You survived the Extremis procedure with no anomalies, didn't you?"

Chris nodded. "All tests point to me being in the clear."

"They ran your bloodwork and temperature fluctuation labs and decided you weren't going to explode," Joel translated bitterly. Chris nodded, then stopped, looking nervous. "Demarais, for fuck's sake, relax."

"Sorry, sir."

"Call me Joel, we've got the same medical hocus pocus in our fucking bodies now. That's like family or something." Joel shook his head to himself, continuing to shift through paperwork. Family. More like the poor desperate souls he dragged into this purgatory with him. In the end, it'd be worth it, he had read enough about history to recognize the doubt in his heart that would be kicked to the curb once all of this was resolved. The waiting for a fucking killer though.

"Then can I..." Chris shuffled from foot to foot, like a kid in his principal's office, all guile with a chaser of guilt to the way his eyes darted nervously around. "Can I ask something, sir? J-- Joel." He corrected himself when Joel turned his head slowly, gaze hard, laying on the manic eyes a bit heavy.

Worked every time. "Shoot."

"Extremis is... it's _amazing_ ," Chris gushed, biting down a grin. "I mean, if you survive it anyway without going..." He clenched a fist, then opened it fast, wide fingers miming an explosion. "This is the sort of thing that's going to change the world."

"There's a question in this, right?"

"Y-yeah. Like... why don't you just go to... CERN or the UN or that big conference in Kyoto, somewhere, and get them to help out? Why're we keeping this so independent? Everyone's going to want to get in on this."

"Because the program is _mine_." Joel growled. He felt his temperature tick higher and tried to breath easy through it. "We tried to get fucking funding and support from all over the fucking place. They never..." He hung his head.

Chris was quiet, patiently waiting, like Joel was something other than a disillusioned old asshole who kept on ticking for no other reason than it was all he had left.

"Demarais, check these." He pushed one of the stacks of paper across the table. "Find me what I need."

Chris tucked away his PDA and took a seat at the table, launching into the lists of pending patents without complaint. "Yes, sir."

Joel didn't correct him this time.

 

* * *

 

Joel Heyman used to be a name that mattered.

And sure, he mattered. The intelligence agencies of the world were scrambling to find his name without knowing it, trying to figure out who had the ability to so thoroughly demolish any target he set his eyes on. But, before that, before it was the Lex Luthor bullshit, Joel was a fucking legitimate businessman, entirely without scare quotes or caveats.

Some people, when they hit their mid-life crisis, they bought a fast cherry-red European sports car that was more glorified sex toy than vehicle. Others dressed up and tried to bang anyone who was young enough to be their kid. Some did the smart thing and talked to their fucking therapist about the futility of existence and the triumphs of Sartre, or whateverthefuck.

Joel, though. Joel was a venture capitalist, among the worst people in the world to go through the mid-life crisis thing. When he felt his age in his bones for the first time, he went through the proposals submitted to him and found Extremis.

Eternal life. The end of disease. Limitless vitality and stamina in a glass vial.

Shame the thing didn't fucking work.

Shame that Joel's entire fucking fortune couldn't make it fucking work.

No one wanted to support a procedure that boasted a mortality rate worse than multiple gunshot wounds. Nevermind that was _what they wanted to fucking fix_. Nevermind that it was probably the next big leap in human evolution, the key to utopia, whatever.

There was a bad day, when the tenth or twentieth person told Joel they weren't interested in Extremis. Joel took the samples they'd brought to the meet and greet and drove them into his own chest.

Everything burned. It felt like his blood had been transfused with kerosene and his heart was a flame, everything fire and pain.

He fucking survived that shit though. The potential investors didn't take his show as a reason to fund the project, but that was to be expected, he guessed. He _may_ have acted rashly. And said a few things along the lines of 'spineless trust fund sons of bitches with more disposable income than vision or balls.'

Their fucking loss. By the end of the year, he was the fucking prophet of Extremis, standing strong for it even in the face of a hundred funding prospects dropping, even when the team packed up and moved on, even when it was him, a fucking economist with metallic blood and red eyes, standing alone in the main facility.

He didn't know the first fucking thing about science beyond the raw numbers, but he _knew_ the numbers. He knew the backdoors of progress, with proposals and grants and the kind of backstabbing that left no scars.

Joel was machine enough that it was easy to make himself into a weapon and set to cutting out of the world the thing he so sorely needed and deserved.

 

* * *

 

Chris was reading aloud a very promising proposal from Oum Designs when Joel turned to the next page in his stack of papers and said, "Hot motherfucking damn."

Hours working with Joel had given Chris some insight into his modes of communication; what 'fucks' were of frustration, which were just emphasis, which were punctuation, et cetera. He'd not heard this tone before, and got up to circle the table to read over Joel's shoulder.

The paper in Joel's hands was browning from the heat of his skin, but it was legible. A patent filing from the illustrious, occasionally fucking batshit Ramsey Enterprises. Joel could not have hoped for a better pedigree of technology and innovation.

Well, besides Oum Designs. Monty Oum's work was good too and he wasn't a fucking showboat like the Ramseys and their domesticated ex-pat were.

Joel's face split into a grin that glowed hot orange. Which would have been a indicator that maybe he needed to chill out if not for the fact that when he looked over at his assistant, Chris' eyes weren't devoid of a similar red gleam.

"Yeah?"

Chris nodded. "Yes, sir. So..." His excitement dimmed. "What do we do? Should I set up a meeting?"

Joel reached out and patted Chris' baby-faced cheek. "Oh, aren't you green as a fucking spring day. The Ramseys don't share shit with nobody." He flashed his teeth. "And neither do I. Nah. Naaaah." He handed off the paper to Chris. "Get this information in our systems. Then go through the new recruits. Get me..." He sighed. "Grab whoever is going to pop soonest. Best not waste perfectly good explosions."

"Sir," Chris said, gathering up the relevant papers and scurrying away.

Joel let himself smile. He was about to send some poor fucking bastards to their deaths in the name of Extremis, as he had so many times in the last few months.

But now...

It didn't take any time at all to find the locations of Ramsey Enterprises' research facilities. Joel walked to the map he had tacked to the wall and picked up some pins.

He pushed one in over Nevada. Another, into New York. One into Austin, and then another into the empty space right outside Austin.

Now, they were cooking with gas.

 

* * *

 

As he had many times before, Joel gave a rousing speech to some young idealist kids who had fallen victim to the immutability of statistics.

He was used to this part. He was sort of horrified at how easy it was to tell these kids that they were going to die but they'd be dying for the upcoming leap forward in human evolution, blah blah blah. They ate it up. They sort of had to, though; there's nothing left for them but making their imminent explosive deaths worthwhile.

Jack wasn't as receptive.

After the Extremis team abandoned the project, Joel had finally called Jack. Jack, who was locked in an eternal battle with a thing living in him that was always about to burst forth and destroy everything.

Joel had thought Jack would understand.

Jack looked over the formulas and into the microscopes at the cultures and even shone a penlight into Joel's eyes. For once, Joel submitted without complaint to Jack's attention. "Tell me good news," he had said.

Jack hadn't. He just looked drawn and tired. "Jesus, Joel, what the hell did you do?" He hadn't sound inspired or impressed. He had only seemed even more tired, spread thin like too little butter on bread.

"I shot myself up with some futuretech," Joel had answered. "Most people don't survive it. I want to change that."

Jack pursed his lips and nodded to the piles of reports in the lab. "What five years and how much money in funding couldn't manage?"

"I didn't have you!"

"You had one of the best teams in the world!" Jack had then dragged a hand down his face, and Joel felt a pang. It had been so damn long since they'd gotten together for so much as drinks. Ever since the incident that gave Jack a big angry green thing cohabitating in his body, Joel had to steer clear. Winding Jack up was no longer a fun way to past the time and show he cared.

Joel had learned to let go then. He loosened his greedy hold on Dr. Pattillo and let him slip away.

Call it a final selfless act.

He'd not spoken to Jack since. Years, now.

Now, though, was what mattered.

Joel made his speeches and pointed his foot soldiers/walking bombs in the right direction, thinking about Ramsey Enterprises and what it was going to take to wrest the golden bullet from their arsenal.


	4. cue the fog machine

Geoff and Griffon had worked very hard to mold Gavin into something halfway decent from the lump of confused adolescence that had been dropped in their laps so many years ago, but sometimes Geoff was given a reminder that the Gavin-is-a-shithead problem was one of those unsolvable equations that math types stroked out to, like P vs NP or whatever it was.

This time, the reminder came as a knock on the door late in the afternoon. Geoff went to answer it and found a stocky lad in the best of Her Majesty's dress uniforms on his porch holding a suitcase and a duffle bag. He wore an expectant expression, but wilted as Geoff narrowed his eyes.

"We've already got an Englishman and we're not ready to upgrade to the newest model, thanks."

The young man blinked. "Er. I'm here to visit Gavin?"

"With luggage?"

"He told me bring everything I needed. Has he... not mentioned?"

Geoff sighed. "Goddammit. Gavin. Gavin!" Resigned, he waved the visitor in. "Come in, kid. You got a name?"

Nervous like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, he followed Geoff inside, seeming torn between looking around at everything and keeping his gaze low. "Major Daniel Gruchy, sir."

The name rang a bell, though Geoff wasn't immediately sure why. He didn't get a bad feeling from it though, and that was a good sign. Sure, he was shit at remembering faces and names of people he'd met. When you were CEO of a huge R&D company with dealings all over the world, that was to be expected, he figured. But Geoff remembered his enemies. He remembered anyone who threatened his company or his family. There had been a time or two when a face had pinged his mental radar as DEFCON 1 level threat and he'd swung before figuring out the _why_ of hitting the guy.

His instincts always rang true, was what mattered.

He wasn't about to walk the major into the lower levels of the ranch house without knowing precisely who he was and how he knew Gavin, so he showed Gruchy to the living room before leaning on the buzzer for the comm system that linked to the fabrication labs. He had his elbow on it about five seconds before the speaker clicked on and Griffon said all angry-sweet, "Yes, Geoffrey?"

"There's some kid in uniform up here to see Gavin, a Major Gruchy."

Tinny and distant, he heard Gavin yelp excitedly. "He's here! Bring him down, Geoff!"

Geoff cut a look sideways to Gruchy. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely! He's safe as houses, I promise you."

The line clicked off and Geoff sighed. Such was his lot in life when he was under the Ramsey roof. _Geoff, fetch this drink. Geoff, stand in the image suite and pinwheel your arms. Geoff, go save my boyfriend from a leviathan._ CEO work was almost relaxing in comparison.

"Come on, Major. But be warned, if you make a move against anyone, not only will I fry you, the resident god of lightning will too."

The guy had the pallor of someone from across the pond yet managed to turn even paler as Geoff lead him to the stairs and deeper into the house. "Perhaps I could just wait upstairs, yeah?"

Geoff shook his head. "You want Gavin to throw a fit? How about no." He brought them up to the design lab, keying the door open and pushing Gruchy in. "Gavin, you didn't mention having a friend for sleepovers."

His jibe was entirely ignored; Gavin sprang up off his perch on his desk and fair sprinted at Gruchy. "You made _major_ , B?" With a leggy jump, he threw himself forward, leaping into the newcomer. " _Look_ at you, B!"

Apparently 'B' knew the score or was just that quick on the draw; he caught Gavin with a hand under each of his thighs, holding him up. "Cor, B, you still jump on every poor soul you see?"

Gavin laughed and ducked his head, red in the ears. "Ah, nah, just the ones in uniform. When'd you get all important?"

There was a weird humming noise. It was quiet, and Geoff looked around, trying to find the source of it. The room was full of glass boards and monitors; they were going just slightly staticky. Geoff looked over to Michael, who was playing wallflower so aggressively, he looked like a support beam himself, stony and quietly observing. "Old friend?" He asked, tone light.

Gavin braced a hand on his friend's shoulder and twisted to look behind him. There was an ease to it, the sort of thing that came from a long-time familiarity.

It was Griffon who got it first. She looked up from working at Gavin's computer and squinted at Gruchy. "You're Gavin's old dorm buddy, right? From when he was in university?"

Dan grinned. "Ta, yes, ma'am. That and more, right, B?"

The red in his ears spread down to his neck. "Ah, well." He shifted. "Let us down, Dan." One his bare feet touched down, he brushed off his lab coat. "Yeah, back when I was going for my marketing degree, back when I was just Free."

Michael frowned. "What?"

Being reunited with Gavin seemed to change Dan like a lightbulb being flicked on. He leaned his arm on Gavin's shoulder and grinned at Michael. "Back before he was Ramsey-Free. Everyone knows the story."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "Sorry. Human name things still don't always make sense to me."

"Surprised you're in Texas. Aren't they really unkind to illegal aliens?"

Because their lives were actually that absurd and dramatic, a roll of thunder sounded, muffled but obvious. Geoff had never seen Michael's eyes so bright outside of battle either. "Isn't that term politically incorrect or something?" He turned his face towards Griffon, though his eyes continued to track Dan.

Griffon put up her hands. "I'm working, boys." She tapped at the keyboard. "But yeah, it is. Style guides even said it was bad form."

"So," Geoff said loudly before Dan and Michael could snipe at each other any further. There was a worrying gleam in Gavin's eyes as he looked between them. Fucking Gavin, christ. "You in the neighborhood or something, Major?"

"Oh. No, not really." He looked down at Gavin. "I'm on assignment, investigating some heavy stuff, and I got a lead but no way to look into it. I remembered B here with his space age gear, figured I'd try to call."

Gavin shrugged. "What're friends for if not mooching off their million-dollar lab equipment?"

"Good question," Michael mumbled. He drew Gavin's gaze again and, yeah, Geoff did _not_ like that look. It spoke of a lot of bullshit on the horizon.

Before anyone could continue the hilarious _repartee_ , Griffon said, "Holy shit. Geoff. _Geoff_!" in a Not All Right tone of voice.

He slid over Gavin's desk in his haste to get to her. "What? What?" Leaning in, Geoff took a look at the screen. "What am I looking at?"

A phone rang, and Dan scrambled for his pockets. "Oh bollocks, I gotta take this."

Griffon ignored him. "We have a security breach at our Nevada R&D. We have..." Her face pinched together. "These numbers don't make sense... all the on-site camera feeds are gone. I can't access anything."

Geoff read along with her. There was a stream of information coming in, but none of it made sense. The camera feeds were gone, their stored files were gone or the servers were entirely inaccessible. Power was out, but lab temperature read as spiking before cutting out entirely. "What the fuck?"

He could hear Dan on his phone. "Where's this, sir? ... Where? And you're sure it's another hit?"

Griffon pushed at Geoff's shoulder. "Suit up. Now. Michael!"

"I'll go with him," Michael replied without missing a beat. He held out a hand and his hammer, that had been resting on one of the lab tables, flew to his hand. "What's going on?"

"Something happened at our Nevada R&D labs, but none of the information we're getting makes sense," she explained.

Dan hung up his phone and said, "That's because the labs are gone. The whole facility's nothing but slag now." He looked around at them all. "That's why I'm here. It'll take a while to explain."

Geoff shook his head. "You can explain on the way. Gavin, put your pal on voice feed. Major, you're going to tell us everything you know in the time it takes for us to get to Nevada."

 

* * *

 

Geoff and Michael took off from the launchpad and headed north, dodging the sudden _mysterious_ rain clouds rolling in. One day, it'd stop being fucking ridiculous that Michael affected the weather with his moods.

"What's your take on that Gruchy guy?" Michael asked, trying for casual and missing by about seven miles.

Geoff turned his head to look at Michael, the green light of his optics illuminating Michael's face. "Not now, sparky."

He nodded, chided.

There was a dull click and Geoff heard Gavin's soft exhale. "We're not able to raise anyone at the labs."

"Communications are probably knocked out," Geoff told him, trying for optimism he didn't really feel. "Dan, you on?"

There was a shuffle, and Gavin murmuring softly, "Just over your one ear, B, and don't play with the mic." After a little weird feedback, Dan said, "Hello?"

"Tell me about this investigation of yours, Major."

And like that, all the jovial, fraternal nature fell from Dan's voice. He started explaining, calm and certain, what he knew.

Geoff listened silently, his face behind his faceplate growing more and more grim. The scenario Dan outlined was not an optimistic one, and he was pissed to have not heard about it before. Usually, when a major research facility got shut down, everyone in the community knew it. Interpol and the UN were locking down on this shit hard. And no wonder; Dan had a lot of things to say, but none on a who or a how.

Michael twirled lazily in the air, dropping to fly under Geoff and meet his gaze. "I'm feeling left out here."

They really needed to figure out how to make Michael an earpiece he wouldn't break every time he used his abilities. "The short version is that research labs all over the world are going dark. Big, super-hot explosions that aren't possible with conventional weaponry. Used to be just across the pond but now a patent office in California got taken. Now one of our labs is probably nothing but ash."

"Why a patent office? That’s some government thing, right?"

Fair question for him; he learned a lot about human society, but there were always gaps. "When we come up with fucking awesome tech we don't want other people stealing, we patent it to call it ours. Ramsey Enterprises files patents all the damn time."

Michael nodded and peeled away again, flying at Geoff's side again. "You were targeted."

"Sounds like."

"ETA fifteen," Gavin said quietly in his ear. Then, in almost a whisper, "Griffon's gone upstairs to make some calls."

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He didn't sound it, but Geoff couldn't push him further. There were other matters to take care of and no matter what Griffon thought, Gavin was an adult.

He knew it when they reached the lab. The suit's HUD started feeding him information about extremely high heat signatures and switched his vision to thermal. There was a white-hot area below them, slowly fanning out into still-fucking-hot yellow, further into ow-that-burns yellow-orange, and then just outside it steeply dropped back to normal levels.

" _Fuck_ ," Michael said with feeling. Geoff keyed the thermal vision off and looked down without it. It was a smoldering wreckage of concrete and metal. There was so much heat, the air shifted, and it was like looking into a mirage.

"That can't be right," Gavin said. "That can't be the old lab. Th-there's nothing there!"

"I told you, B," Dan said. "That's how all the targets looked. It'll be too hot to walk through for days."

Geoff sighed. "Michael, you want to help cool this down? We need to get a look at it."

Michael nodded. "Yeah, shit. You're in the suit, you probably can't feel it, but it's already making me sweat. Hang on." He shot off, into the wind, and started to trace wide, sweeping loops in the sky. As he did, the night sky darkened further as clouds began to stir up. A cold wind blew in, and Michael dragged in a few storm clouds.

It was still ridiculous, but sometimes a little awe-inspiring too.

Inside of five minutes, it was raining. Predictably, the rain didn't even get close, evaporating as it fell. Michael cursed and flew around some more, giving Nevada a very unseasonal torrential downpour. Steam filled Geoff's vision as the rain fell. "Coolant levels steady, but don't hover there, hm?" Gavin suggested softly.

Geoff backed away and let Michael do his thing. He did that thing for a long while before the heat even started to dissipate. "Stay up here, sparky," Geoff told him. "Let the people with high tech prothesis take a look."

And truthfully, there wasn't much to look at.

When he touched down on the ground, he had no concept of where in the facility he was. The rubble remains of the walls were blackened and any identifying marks were just gone, melted away. The rain was still pouring down, sizzling on every surface it touched.

He expected... _something_. Any clue to the how or an ignition point or a trace of accelerant. Some sort of puzzle piece.

The lab was nothing but slag, as Dan predicted.

Fucking christ.

"I can't believe... Griffon and I were just in those labs two weeks ago," Gavin said. "I can't even tell where the labs _were_."

"Yeah, I know."

"Who could have done this? You, you keep track of our enemies. Who has this technology?"

Geoff sighed. "I don't know, Gav." He tapped his helm. "Scanning for anything out of place."

"R-right... bloody fucking hell..."

"B, it's okay," Dan said. "Hey, are you--"

"I'm _fine_ ," Gavin bit back, clipped and awkward. "Anything, Geoff?"

"Not yet." He swallowed his sigh. The amount of work loss... the potential loss of life if the explosion had happened in the day. There would have been some security guards. They'd have to find out who was on duty and try to locate them, if they were still alive. Restarting that many projects was going to be killer, and senior researchers would have to be relocated. What a fucking mess.

Michael apparently threw caution to the wind, floating down. He remained a good stretch off the ground and didn't look that comfortable, but he was there. Geoff looked to him. "This familiar to you?"

He shook his head. "No, sorry. My people, they were capable of this, but our weapons were never so imprecise..." His head snapped up sudden, and Michael's gaze turned to the distance. "What? What's happening?"

"What?"

"With _Gavin_ , is he all right? Is it that guy--"

Gavin cut in. "Sorry! Hang on, speakers..." There was another click, and Gavin's voice was projected through Geoff's suit. "I'm fine, Michael, sorry. I was just... worrying at it a bit."

Michael went from being ready for anything to calm again, shoulder slumping. "All right. That's okay. Just, not so intently, babe."

Oh. The fucking alien promise ring. Right. If Gavin was accidentally setting off that beacon, he wasn't in a good way.

Just as well. There wasn't anything to see. It was all gone. "Coming home. There's nothing here for us," Geoff said, then kicked off the ground and back into the air, pointing himself towards home.

 

* * *

 

With less of a time constraint on their travel, it should have been a much more gradual trip back south to Austin. Michael flew anxiously, speeding up and then slowing down again when he saw he was starting to leave Geoff behind. Geoff could've sped up, but got a kick out of watching Michael try very hard not to snap at him to keep up.

Michael was a god of rage, sure, but he was a god of rage who had regular yoga appointments in San Francisco to keep his temper under control. He once confided to Geoff he'd heard about acupuncture and wanted to try it out only to find the stainless steel most needles were made of wouldn't pierce his skin. There was also the time he tried to swim with dolphins only to find out that dolphins were intelligent enough that his magical Allspeak thing let him understand them.

"They mostly talk about global warming and theories of interdimensional travel," Michael had revealed when they met up at a Starbucks in Dubai.

"You are so full of shit your eyes are brown," Geoff had told him earnestly.

"They're not. Humans lack color receptors and shit. Look, if I wanted to talk about the disparity of science between species, I'd have stayed with the dolphins, asshole." He had taken a moment then to pull his straw out of his cup to lick the whipped cream off it.

"Why don't you just use the same stress relief techniques most humans do?" At Michael's curious arched brow, Geoff had grinned and said, "Marathon sex."

That was before Gavin and Michael had sorted their shit out, so Michael had just sputtered and looked really sheepish. "Goddammit, Geoff."

Flying with him, it was clear that Michael still had issues with impatience and flares of anger. Geoff slowed down further, taking the trip back at a leisurely pace, and Michael snapped at him, "Fucking really?"

Geoff flipped him off. "I don't need you to fucking fly myself home, asshole. You wanna race back, go for it."

"I'm going to stroll in a half hour ahead of you and Griffon is gonna give me that fucking look."

"The look that says you're the most whipped motherfucker in history? Yeah, well, you are." He waved. "Bye."

"Goddammit, Geoff," Michael groused, but sped off, soon becoming nothing but a speck in the distance, and then not even that.

That suited Geoff fine. He took his time, conserving power. Michael wasn't shaken by the sight back in Nevada, and that was fair; he was some big shot warrior back home, had probably seen worse, and Ramsey Enterprises wasn't his baby. Geoff, though, was thinking about the square footage of the labs and wondering how much security would have been on the premises at the time of the explosion. What a goddamn mess.

He was going to find whoever was responsible and introduce their face to repulsor beam technology.

Upon getting back home, Geoff got out of the suit and went to find his wife.

Griffon was in one of the offices, her head bent over print-outs of personnel records. She was crossing out names with a red pen. The sight made Geoff sigh internally; that couldn't be good.

"Hey."

Griffon shook her head. "Five so far."

"Fucking christ."

"Yeah." She dragged a hand through her hair. Geoff could see her ponytail was crooked, half pulled out of the tie; she was running her hands through her hair a lot. "We're going to bump security everywhere, full scans on everyone entering and leaving. Lock down the files associated with the Iron Man project."

Geoff sat on a corner of the desk. "You think they're after the suit?"

"What else do we have that's worth this level of bullshit?" She waved a paper at Geoff, now with seven red lines adorning it. "The arc reactor? Everyone knows it's not stable technology yet."

Geoff rubbed at his chin, scratching through his beard. "No. Hang on. This shit has been happening in Europe. We don't have any labs over there and no one has managed a viable competitor to our suit design. It doesn't make sense for this to be about the suit."

"Right. Okay." She dropped her pen and rubbed at her eyes. It was getting late. "Talk to Dan, then. See what else he knows. I need to do next-of-kin calls."

"I can do that," he offered gently.

"No. This one's mine." She looked down at her list, mouth tight, face drawn. "You'll take the next."

"There isn't going to be--"

"I want to move Gavin," she said suddenly. "Somewhere safer. But I can't think of... Maybe we can have him visit Barbara. Or do some work for BYTE."

The angry hissing thing in Geoff's gut at the thought of Gavin being under BYTE's roof again wasn't rational, but he didn't really care. "Sorola doesn't have a good track record with keeping an eye on Gavin, does he?"

"Captain Haywood is supposed to be reforming BYTE, really shaping them up."

"You think he'd be safer there than he would be here with us and with his rage-fueled boyfriend watching him?" Geoff scoffed.

Griffon shook her head. "Michael didn't stop Narvaroth."

There was a hardness to Griffon's voice that Geoff understood, but didn't like. Talking about their boy's safety while she crossed out the names of the dead was not a formula for a level conversation, that was for damn sure. "That wasn't his fault, it was Sorola's, and he still got there in time."

"Maybe," Griffon said, her focus on her work.

Geoff watched her for a while longer, ready to offer.... anything she needed, really. But she was methodical in comparing employee clock-in logs with the personnel paperwork.

There wasn't anything else to say, not right then anyway. So Geoff left, closing the door quietly behind him before hunting down the kids.

For once, they weren't in the labs. Dan and Gavin were in the kitchen, Gavin sitting on the island with a Third Shift in his hands, picking at the beer label while Dan was talking softly.

"He can go anywhere, it's utter crap. I mean, I'm grateful, obviously, but the fact that I can't do my bloody job but that suit lets him do it for me..." His head hung low. "I've been working on this thing months now, B."

Gavin got a thoughtful look on his face. "Things would go more smoothly if you could... Oh, you're back!" He waved to Geoff. "Are you... How's--"

"Griffon's handling some phone calls. I'm fine. You," Geoff pointed at finger at Dan, who instantly looked nervous and stood up straight, to attention like a good soldier. "You gotta have more for us to work off of."

Dan nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do, actually. S'why I came here originally. I figured if anyone had the resources to sort it out, it was B."

He excused himself to where his duffle bag was and returned with a rectangular metal case. It was scorched and darkened, the outside panes slightly warped. "This is the only thing that's been recoverable from an explosion site. I was hoping you could work out what it is."

Gavin took the case and pried it open; the hinges weren't doing so good and the thing squeaked loudly as it came open. Inside were needles with small cartridges of something inside.

"You don't know what it is?"

"Nah. Grabbed it from the Silicon Valley before the CIA or FBI bird could. She didn't look like the type to share." Dan rubbed the back of his neck. "Not really fair, I know, but you get that feeling from some people in suits, that anything they get their hands on is just never seen again."

"Who was it?" Geoff asked, looking over Gavin's shoulder at the needles.

"Agent Tuggey or something."

Gavin snorted. "Good instincts. She's good people, but... also not."

"You know her?"

"Oh, do I," Gavin breathed, hopping off the counter. "I'm going to put this into the lab, see what we can't suss out about it." He crooked a finger. "Come with, B, I want to get you in the imaging suite. Need your measurements."

Geoff groaned. "Gavin."

"What?" Dan asked, looked between them even as he followed Gavin.

"Just a few ideas, nothing to fret about. See you in a few hours, Geoff!"

Goddammit, Gavin had that damn gleam again. "It's almost one in the fucking morning, Gav!"

"Goodnight then!" He caught Dan's wrist and pulled him along to the stairs, vanishing down into the labs.

Geoff did not like where that was going. He didn't like where it was going enough that he sighed and made his way to the fridge to grab a beer. He was tired from the long day and the fucking drama and the heavy weight of how terrible tomorrow was going to be hanging onto him, but instead of wisely heading to bed to rest while he could, he wanted a drink.

He noticed, looking at the kitchen window, that rain was streaking down the glass.

Speaking of people who didn't like where that was going.

Geoff found Michael on the porch, sitting with his leg up, stretched across the bench swing. His body didn't move and his feet were off the ground, but the swing was rocking steadily. Not for the first time, Geoff wondered how the hell Michael's flying worked. Magic was the usual answer.

"Hey, sparky."

"Hn." He was drinking what looked like a bottle of chocolate vodka. Straight from the bottle. Shit. "What's up?"

"Why are you lurking out here?"

Michael turned his head to give Geoff a flat look, then looked at the house. "Dunno. Just..." He looked back out into the rain. "Thinking."

"You know how he is with shiny objects, he's got no damn attention span."

Michael smirked. "I didn't say anything about it."

"You never have to." He waved his beer bottle to the inky grey and black sky.

"I'm not threatened."

Geoff leaned on the support beam of the porch. He could feel the cool rain on his arm, streaking down. It was refreshing in the humid air. "I've seen what it takes to threaten you, sparky. Still. That's a good bottle of Van Gogh you're spending your evening with."

Michael rolled his eyes. "I don't need you to do this, asshole. I'm fine. It sucks that Gavin's old _whatever_ showed up right when I got back from fucking Russia and he's being cagey about that trip we're supposed to take--"

"Gavin's what now?" Geoff hadn't heard this before. He'd always assumed Gavin and Michael were going to go have a barely disguised honeymoon somewhere, and the fact they hadn't yet was weird, but he'd never heard any reason why.

"But believe it or not, I'm a big boy. I can deal." Michael smiled, a little bitterly. "You got other shit to worry about, right?"

"Yeah," Geoff sighed, looking out into the rain himself, listening to the sound of it tapping against the roof above him. "Yeah, I do."

Tomorrow was going to be a hell of a day.


	5. when your hinges turn to rust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter: slut-shaming

Gavin stood outside with an umbrella braced on his shoulder, tilted to block the majority of the rain. The usually lovely Austin weather had taken a turn for the dreary over the past week. Nothing but rain and a few scattered thunderstorms.

The local newspapers were making thinly veiled jokes at Michael's expense. The local meteorologists were not as subtle.

When you were dating someone with a supernatural affinity for storms, you got used to that sort of thing. Gavin just kept his umbrella settled in the crook of his arm as he watched the sky through his goggles, focused on a flying figure encased in blue, red, and white as he did laps above the Ramsey property. Along the sides of his vision was a HUD that fed him numbers about how the suit was operating.

The numbers were, to be brutally honest, not great, but that was to be expected. It was Dan's first time in the sky.

Michael was not so forgiving.

He was watching without the benefit of an umbrella or goggles, just bright eyes in the face of the rain. Gavin had no doubt Michael's vision was just as keen. "He needs to stop taking his turns so sharp, he's going to spiral out and he weighs enough he'll end up in a fucking crater before he course-corrects."

"He's new, Michael," Gavin sighed.

"Remind him he's got boosters on his gloves too and to stop directing himself with his feet so much."

Gavin rolled his eyes but Michael was not wrong. He had a round communique clipped to his lab coat and tapped it. "B, you're going to overcorrect yourself into the Gulf if you don't keep your legs closed."

Dan laughed. "Bit rich, from you."

There was a moment where the words didn't really click in Gavin's head, but the moment they did his face burned. He startled and let out a quick laugh. "Back at you, B, never known you to complain before. But seriously, hand thrusters, use them, right?"

"I'll take that into account," Dan replied curtly, though his words were almost lost to a flurry of static. The communique squealed and Gavin nearly toppled over, trying to recoil away from it when it was hanging onto him.

"Bollocks!" He slapped the communique off and frowned. There was a feeling of the hairs on his arms standing up. He looked at Michael. "What?"

Michael was watching the sky still. "What?"

"What is your problem?"

"Did I say I had a problem?"

He hadn't, but there was a rumble of thunder as the rain came down harder. Lightning spidered through the dark clouds and the wind picked up until the umbrella was no longer an effective shield. " _Michael_." There was a devastatingly intent look on his face and Gavin sighed. "Dammit." He pulled off his goggles and shoved them into Michael's hands before tapping his communique. "Come back down, B, weather's being unsympathetic."

"Yeah, I noticed it does that a lot. Be right with you."

Michael shot Gavin a confused look. "The suit can handle weather, Gavin. Geoff's flown through tornados before."

"Dan isn't remotely ready for that. Geoff had to familiarize himself with the suit's systems for months before we even tried a real mission with it." He walked over to the launchpad, huddling underneath his umbrella as closely as he could. "Do you really want to argue suit mechanics and operator proficiency right now, love?"

Michael's lips pressed together and he shook his head, following behind Gavin. Already the storm was letting up, but Gavin wasn't in the mood. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Why would you be sorry?" Gavin asked him sweetly, and watched Michael look away, chided.

Dan came down from the air above them a little too fast, and Michael hooked an arm around Gavin's waist, leaping away and hovering in the air with Gavin drawn out of harm's way. Dan landed on his feet and immediately stumbled forward four steps. "Shit! I keep forgetting how sodding heavy I am in this thing! Isn't it supposed to be superlight metal or whatever, B?"

Gavin let out a shaky breath. "It's still a lot of machinery, Dan." He looked over his shoulder, catching Michael's concerned gaze and nodded. "Thanks."

"Of course," Michael murmured, lowering them back to the ground. The circle of concrete shuddered, then began to sink into the ground, down to the design lab.

Gavin was about to step forward and check the new suit's fitting, but Michael's hands remained on his hips, grip firm and familiar. Gavin looked back at him and took in the wan smile. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Gavin replied but stood up on his toes to kiss him. Then he frowned and looked down at Michael's feet. "Stop hovering to make yourself taller."

Michael grinned and touched back down. "It always takes you a minute to notice."

"That's because he likes his blokes tall," Dan said, flipping his faceplate up. "You must make up for it elsewhere, Michael."

Between any other two people it'd be almost friendly, but the way Dan and Michael had been circling each other and snapping since Dan's arrival made it clear there was nothing friendly about it. It was entertaining to watch though. Dan seemed to notice right away how much Michael disliked him and, like Gavin, enjoyed the conflict and how it wound Michael up.

Gavin sort of wished Dan would ease up now that they were working and had things to do, but he didn't want to get between them. Staying neutral was easier.

"What? What you lack in feet you make up for in inches?" Dan hazarded, grinning cheekily.

Michael sighed and said nothing.

The platform settled and Gavin pointed Dan to the back of the lab. "Suit off, hurry up." Gavin went the opposite way, sitting at his desk and pulling up the accumulated information from Dan's test run.

It was a spur of the moment thing, creating another suit and keying it to Dan alone. His friend's frustration over having no means to explore the sites of the explosions stuck with him. He could fix that very easily.

Thus, Union Jack was born. It was one of the latest models of the Iron Man prosthesis sized for Dan. Some of the bonuses like the missiles and the one-shot high-powered laser he left out, oddly uncomfortable with handing that sort of technology over to Dan. Dan was his best friend for many years, but: missiles. Gavin did come up with a new paint job though.

Geoff's suit was silver and blue and green, stylish but smooth. Union Jack was appropriately painted with the colors of the flag with broad stripes down the arms and legs and little stars running in lines down the back. It was a little cheesy but he couldn't call Griffon in on a consult. She and Geoff were busy, had been for the past few days.

Gavin was aware that he had good intentions helping Dan with his situation, but also knew that his mind and hands were just desperate for a project. Griffon had him working day and night on the new element, Austinion, and suddenly stopping and having nothing pressing, it was giving him whiplash.

He felt useless to Geoff and Griffon as they handled the company and the rebuilding and relocating of the Nevada lab. For all that Griffon was training him in everything she could, company management was still beyond him.

He'd be taught it eventually, no doubt.

Gavin blinked at his monitor and found he'd not absorbed any of the information he was looking at. Rubbing his face tiredly, he scrolled back up to the top to try again.

Michael's hands landed on his shoulders. "Hey. You should take a break."

"I'm fine. I do this all the time, it's just number crunching and refinement."

"You look tired."

"It's _fine_ , Michael, I'll... let me wrap this up and I'll grab a few winks, yeah?" He looked up at Michael, taking in his quietly concerned look.

"Okay." Michael nodded. "I'm gonna run upstairs, make a sandwich. You want one?"

Gavin smiled. "That'd be top, thank you, love." He accepted another kiss, this one longer and lingering, before Michael left the lab.

It was only quiet for a few moments. Dan finished getting unlocked from the suit and bounded over to Gavin sitting on the desk next to him and watching the info feed as it rolled by. "That stuff mean anything to you, B?"

"Yes," Gavin replied, pausing the scroll to highlight one of the lines before moving on.

Dan watched for about twenty seconds before sighing impatiently. "So, he is packing something, right?"

"Bloody hell, Dan," Gavin muttered.

"I'm just asking. Can't blame a guy for being curious. He's not the usual type, is he?"

"Oh, how would you know?"

"A few years of observation and _hands-on_ experience, or did you forget?" He bumped his shoulder into Gavin's.

"That was ages ago," Gavin said. "Go easy on Michael, would you?"

"No. Absolutely not. I do that, how'm I supposed to know he's good enough for you? You're a right handful, if he can't deal with me then there's no damn way he'll handle you, right?" His hand came down heavy on Gavin's head, ruffling his hair. "It's, what do you call it? Stress testing."

Gavin shook his head, biting down another sigh. "Still." He thought the entire ridiculous bullshit with Narvaroth was enough stress testing for them, personally.

"All right, fine, if you insist. What's next on the agenda?"

Gavin shrugged. "Still waiting on full analysis of those samples you found. Michael is going to make me eat something and then I think I'll shut my eyes for an hour. If the weather stops being so unsympathetic, we'll try another round with the flying. You need the practice."

"It's hard. Not all of us can be magical aliens, more's the pity for you."

"I'm coming up with a temporary solution for you. You need to learn though."

"All right, B, all right." He leaned in, wrapping one strong arm around Gavin's chest and nudged his mouth against Gavin's temple. "Thank you, Gav. I appreciate it."

Gavin smiled, a warm feeling growing from his chest. Nothing was ever going to make him happier than protecting someone with his designs. And he'd misstepped with Ra-- with Narvaroth, that was true. It still burned him to be so callously used, but moments like this when this work was appreciated were what he was fed on.

There had been a time, back when it was him and Dan in England, Gavin had no idea what the hell he had been doing with his life. He hadn’t known what direction he was meant to go in and even though he’d been good at his schoolwork, none of it was fulfilling. He had been walking around with some unknown variable in his chest until he stumbled into the Ramseys.

Gavin chuckled to himself, nudging Dan off him. Unknown variable. Griffon would be proud of him, there.

As luck would have it, she walked in then. Along with Geoff. And Michael was trailing behind them, sandwichless.

The warm feeling in Gavin's chest was snuffed out by a cold fear. "What happened?"

* * *

 

It was like the world's strangest family picture, with everyone clustered around the desk. Griffon sat at Gavin's chair, pulling her hair free of it's tie and brushing it back from her face, putting on a stern, professional look that Gavin recognized. She only wore it when doing one of her oversight tours of Ramsey Enterprises. Even Geoff had a level, serious look on his face.

Gavin twitched, instantly wanting to get out of the way, but he turned and Dan was standing there like a great wall of fellow countryman.

Michael caught Gavin's wrist and squeezed. "Calm down."

Gavin exhaled hard and nodded. "Right. Yeah."

The central platform of the lab came on, but instead of Gavin's design suite, a holographic screen formed in front of them. It was blank for a moment before the feed went live and they were greeted by the face of Lindsay Tuggey.

Just like that, everyone relaxed.

"Agent Tuggey!" Geoff gave a half wave. "We were expecting fucking Sorola."

Tuggey smiled thinly. "He's in a meeting with Captain Haywood right now. You're stuck with me."

"There's worse fates," Griffon said dryly.

Dan though was less pleased. "You, you're that FBI-CIA-what-bloody-ever bird from Silicon Valley!"

Tuggey spread her hands wide, now grinning openly. "The same. And you never asked who I worked for."

Under his breath, Dan muttered. "Damn cagey Yanks..."

"Anyway," Tuggey said, her tone going from bright to solemn in two syllables. "Sorry to interrupt, I know you must be under a lot of pressure right now from the Nevada explosion, but there's some things you need to be brought up to speed with."

"Go ahead," Griffon said.

Tuggey nodded and flipped open a file sitting on the desk in front of her. It seemed to be mostly for effect; she didn't need to look at it as she explained. "At about 2200 hours yesterday, your facility in New York was attacked. There was a security breach that went undetected by your systems and a rogue element infiltrated the building, making it to the employee elevator and down to the lab levels." Griffon stood up, voice already ringing angrily, but Tuggey went on. "Agent Luna was embedded in your facility and caught the woman. When she did not show proper identification and could not explain her presence, she grew violent. Agent Luna terminated her."

Another person leaned into frame, a tall bloke with a scruffy face and kind eyes. "You're welcome, by the way!" he told them cheerfully.

"Miles," Tuggey said warningly.

"Right, sorry. Uh, there was no bomb or detonator on the woman. She managed to pick up one of those steel and concrete work benches and threw it at my head though; that was interesting." He rubbed at his beard, face drawn into a contemplative frown. "She also had weird glowy eyes. I mean, before I..." He mimed drawing back a bow and releasing an arrow. "So, food for thought."

"Thank you," Gavin said. Griffon cut him a sharp look, but he couldn't help feeling grateful after seeing the way the Nevada base of operations had just been gone after the explosion.

"Ooh, I don't get thanked often." Agent Luna waved to Gavin, grinning. "Anytime, Dr. Ramsey-Free. Big fan, by the way!"

Tuggey rolled her eyes. " _Thank you_ , Agent Luna. You better get to the debrief."

"Right. Later, guys! Or hopefully not. Things are best when I see you but you don't see me." Luna toodled his fingers before leaving the video frame again.

Tuggey shook her head, sighing. "Sorry. He doesn't get out a lot."

"Nice kid," Geoff said. "How long has he been _embedded_ in Ramsey Enterprises?"

"Uh, if you are expecting me to feel bad for having one of our people watching out for you guys after he just saved your facility from a super-hot explosive fate," Tuggey said, "you've got another thing coming."

"Watching out for us, huh?"

Tuggey lifted her eyebrows, offering a look of guileless innocence. She blinked and it was put away, back to business. "We recovered a few interesting pieces of evidence from the would-be bomber. We're going to have our best analysing them. Hopefully they'll come back with some answers. I'm curious how you take out an R&D facility without a bomb."

Griffon's knuckles went white as she clasped her hands on the desk in front of her. "We'd appreciate any information you find."

There was an almost imperceptible hesitation before Tuggey nodded, small enough it could have just been lag in the cross-country feed. "Of course. Especially now that it's become obvious your company is being targeted." She flipped her file folder back closed, having not glanced at it once. "Thanks for your time, everyone. Hopefully next we talk, it'll be good news."

"With our luck?" Geoff muttered as Griffon signed off and cut the feed, powering everything back down.

As soon as they were done, Geoff and Griffon were back in motion. Geoff pulled his phone out of his pocket and was already dialing someone. "I'll get on the horn with our security people, tell 'em we need more. I'm going to hire some people, make sure there's always someone on premises."

"Oh, should I--" Gavin started.

Griffon rolled away from the desk and followed. "I need to look at what we've got back on those injectors. The analysis should be done soon and we should have some preliminary results already."

"But--" Gavin tried again, but both of them were gone as quickly as they came.

He felt... bereft. It felt like he should be doing something but as he wracked his mind for options, nothing came to mind. He was useless for this and it stung him like a dozen needles jabbed into his skin all over.

Gavin shook himself hard and covered his face with his hands. "Dan. Back in the suit, please."

"You want to do this _now_?"

Anger and frustration lanced through Gavin. "Are you busy with something else right now, Major?"

He didn't see Dan's reaction, but heard it as he walked away quietly. At the far side of the lab, he could hear the suit-up apparatus come on.

His hands were pulled down, away from his face, and Michael's eyes were waiting for his, staring. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"I don't know... Look, I get that you don't like him, but--"

"Clear skies, I know. I got it." Michael leaned in, bumping his nose against Gavin's. "It'll be okay."

Gavin nodded and leaned against Michael for a moment, like that calm strength of his could be transferred by touch. When they parted, Gavin put his hand on the desk and held himself up, thinking of combustion and melted metal.

* * *

 

They came up with a better system for the Union Jack suit after working for a few hours at it. It was a set of training wheels, and crutch for Dan as he flung himself around in a metal coffin through the air.

Gavin stood in the design suite and watched through Dan's eyes, his blue light circled around him. His hands lay still at his sides as he followed Dan's progress.

Dan, as he always did, took one of his turns too steep, bending his legs to compensate. Gavin rolled his eyes and reached out, taking control and straightening them again. The motors in the suit responded to his commands and extended Dan's palms, using the thrusters there to pull out of the dive more carefully.

"That is _weird_ ," Dan crowed, laughing over the audio feed.

"Get used to it," Gavin said lowering his hands again. "Until you learn to manage all these systems properly, I'm in there as much as you are."

"I thought you never wore the suit. How're you so good at it?"

Gavin shrugged and lifted his hand. He wanted a practical test for the weapons. Tapping a few icons, he activated one of the repulsors and waited until Dan was flying level. With a smooth movement, he held out his hand and twitched his fingers.

On Dan's video feed, he could see the suit follow him. With a careful fluid twirl of his wrist, he fired into the bare countryside, drawing a perfect circle with the beam.

" _Nice_ , B! Sometimes I think you're better at this than the rest of us."

Gavin shut his eyes and lowered his hand, letting the words pass over him and willing them not to linger. It wasn't Dan's fault that he and Gavin had not talked for so long, that they'd missed so much of each other's lives. Dan didn't know any better.

Still. Gavin couldn't not think of a pair of gemstone green eyes and just how disastrous being the one in the suit had been for him. Without really meaning to, he ran his fingers over his neck, thinking of someone else's grip.

"Come on back, B," Gavin said quietly when he was finally able to stop thinking about it.

"What, already?"

"Yeah. It's getting late and I'd like to sleep sometime this week, funnily enough."

"Roger, B." Usually boisterous, it was odd when Dan fell silent and just focused on directing himself home. Gavin realized with a pang that he must have noticed how withdrawn Gavin was. It made him dial out of his connection to the suit and pull off his headset with a shaking hand. Dan would just need to be careful getting back.

It'd be much easier if things weren’t so hectic around him. Griffon would know how to correct Dan's flight issues or at least could put Gavin in touch with one of their software engineers, like JJ, who would design something to automatically handle what Gavin was doing manually.

But, everyone around him was working as he stood still and tried to convince himself he was doing something just as important. It was hard not to look around the design lab, this space built and customized to precisely what Gavin needed to do his work, and not see it as a cage.

And then a wave of guilt hit him, for being so fucking ungrateful.

He threw himself into a chair and sagged down into it, the collar of his lab coat around his ears. He wanted to bury his head into it and forget about everything. Being locked in the fab lab with Griffon for a month working with the Austinion had been hard, frustrating work, but it sounded like heaven to Gavin now.

Dan returned and going out of the suit before walking to Gavin. Gavin didn't look at him, and it clearly unnerved him. "Hey, I'm... going to grab some food. You coming upstairs?"

Upstairs, where Griffon and Geoff were trying to save their empire from whoever the hell was laying siege to it. Gavin shook his head. "You go ahead. I have some more work I want to do."

"Didn't you say you wanted to sleep, B?" There was a softness to Dan's voice that, if anything, stung further. "All right, all right. Just... don't work too hard, okay?"

Gavin nodded, and kept his head down until Dan let himself out of the lab.

Then, pulling his bare feet up onto the chair with him, Gavin curled up there in front of his monitors, staring at the screens until they stopped making sense, leaving him with only his thoughts for company.

* * *

 

The lab results came back eventually, forcing Gavin to emerge out of the basement at last.

Griffon had a tablet in her hands and was outlining what they now knew.

"It's called Extremis, according to some really old patent information. The lab that made it has been defunct for years. The chemical in the injectors is some sort of gene therapy that causes a lot of really dangerous shit to go down," she said, thumb flicking over the screen to scroll it. "I tested it on a few different materials and it's mostly inert _except_ when it meets living tissue."

Geoff looked bemused. "Is that why you stole the basil plant from the window box?"

"Yeah, just a hunch. That shitty little plant grew to about five times its size within an hour of being introduced to the Extremis compound. Then it lit on fire."

"You owe me a new basil plant."

Griffon flapped an impatient hand at him. "Bill me later. From what I could glean, the compound made the plant heal itself at a rapid pace. Too rapid. Once there was nothing else to fix, there was still... _energy_ to spend, and it tried to handle with extraneous growth, but eventually outpaced itself. Everything got very compact and hot, and it popped."

Michael pulled a face. "So... the answer to how do you blow up an R&D facility without a bomb..."

Griffon nodded. "You pump yourself full of a few syringes of this shit and you go boom."

Michael shook his head and said something under his breath in rolling, nonsense syllables.

"Why, though?" Dan asked. "Why make yourself a bomb instead of just using a bomb?"

"I know it doesn't seem like it after two breaches in a week, but RE's got some of the best security in the world. The fact anyone made it to the lab levels, bomb or not, is a fucking miracle," Geoff said. "This might've been the only way to do it."

"Next question," Griffon said, holding up a finger. "Why dig up old, dangerous medical technology?" Her finger swung to point to Dan. "And what's it got to do with the incidents Dan has been investigating?"

No one had an answer.

Griffon sighed and dragged a hand through her hair. "Okay. I'm going to run a few more tests on other organic material, see what happens. Geoff, can you call BYTE and see if they have anything they're keeping from us?"

He smirked. "Sort of like how we're keeping this from them?"

"For the time being, yeah." She stood up, attention back on her tablet. "Don't mention the Extremis. And be nice, even if it's Sorola."

Geoff groaned, long and loud. "When is that asshole getting sacked?"

Griffon shrugged and left, heading back down to the labs. Nodding, Geoff got up and headed to the home office.

"Uh, should I-- do I need to do anything?" Gavin finally asked, wincing at the break in his own voice.

Geoff turned to look at him slowly, blinking. For a moment he seemed confused. "What? No, uh, what are you working on, the new suit?" Gavin nodded. "Yeah, just keep on with that." He passed Gavin as he walked by and patted his head fondly.

Gavin's face burned.

In the wake of Geoff, there was quiet until Dan cleared his throat. "B, I'm gonna write up a report and turn in. More flying in the morning, yeah?"

"Yeah," Gavin murmured. "Good night, Dan."

"Night, B. Don't beat yourself up to much, yeah?"

Like Geoff, Dan touched Gavin as he passed, a brief show of comfort before walking away. Gavin sat on the sofa, listening to the storm outside as his limbs began to feel like concrete. He didn't move. He felt like he _couldn't_ move, that the world just spun on around in some mad convoluted dance Gavin wasn't fleetfooted enough to figure out the steps to.

What the bloody hell was he supposed to do? Wasn't that the point of Griffon teaching him so many things lately, that he was supposed to be _useful_? What was the point of him, otherwise?

Gavin tangled his fingers in the chain around his neck, pulling it just to feel the weight more.

Michael took his hand and opened it, letting the pendant fall loose as he twined his fingers with Gavin's. "Want to see something?"

Gavin blinked up at Michael. He looked just as worn out as everyone else, but he was smiling for Gavin. He pulled Gavin to his feet and walked backward, drawing Gavin to the porch.

"I should--"

"Later," Michael said. "For now, come with me."

There was no more resistance. Gavin trailed along with Michael, clutching his hand like a lifeline. Michael squeezed back, smile widening, becoming a little more genuine. Together, they stepped out of the house and onto the porch.

It was raining, which wasn't surprising. Michael had been at the ranch house for over a week now and the atmosphere was ever sympathetic to his presence. Something about standing out in the open air with the sound of rain pelting against the ground made him just that extra bit more wild and alien, his eyes glowing like the flame of a hurricane lamp even without any light to reflect from his eyes.

Michael pulled Gavin down the steps into the rain until Gavin halted on the bottom step. "Can I get shoes at least?"

Michael grinned and instead held out his arms.

It stopped being ridiculous a long time ago, so Gavin went to him without complaint, putting an arm around Michael's neck and letting him sweep up Gavin's legs. With Gavin held securely, Michael lifted off the ground, rising slowly at first before picking up speed.

Gavin tucked his feet into Michael side and tried to get in as close as possible. The rain was as cool as Michael was warm and he wanted to burrow in and savor the contrast. There was almost a sting to the feel of each droplet as it pelted him and it was a welcome change from the weird, shocky numb feeling that had taken over him lately.

He made the mistake of looking down, at the ranch house nothing more than a scarcely lit dot below them. “ _Jeeeesus_ , we’re up high,” Gavin said into Michael’s neck.

“I’ve got you.”

“I know, I know. Still. That is a long fall.”

They came to hover amid the clouds. It was dark, the only light coming from Austin’s nightlife on the horizon and the roil of lightning tracing through the curve of the clouds. Gavin watched the lightning and how close it seemed with slight trepidation.  

Michael smiled and settled, as steady in the air as he would be with his feet on the ground. He bent his legs and pulled Gavin in to straddle him, seated on his lap. "I wanted to show you this."

He held out his arms, reaching into the sky, and pulled them in sharply. Gavin felt the pressure around them increase, fluid and natural, and watched at the cloud cover thickened, blotting out the moon entirely. "Michael..."

"Hey. I've got you." He held Gavin's hips, keeping him close as the storm intensified around them.

It was a great intimidating thing. The clouds flowed around them, the sensation of moving even as they were still. The rain may have gotten heavier, but Gavin was already soaked through his clothes to his skin, so he couldn't tell. The lightning lanced downward, flashing around and under them. The flashes of it illuminated everything around them, and from the individual drops to the trees below to the form of the clouds. Everything moved at an angle with the wind, one more machination in the storm's system.

A lightning strike hit the ground just below them and Gavin couldn't contain the startled yelp, jumping into MIchael. The boom that followed was ear splitting and Gavin covered his ears, then grabbed Michael's shoulders. "Oh my god!"

Michael laughed, and it was such a bright and happy sound that it changed the storm. The lightning and the thunder was awe-inspiring but scary until Gavin watched it illuminate the smile on his face. There was such ease and lack of worry to his features, it was hard to be afraid.

"Here," Michael said, and cupped his hands around Gavin's head, palm pressed over his ears. Around them the lightning flashed faster and faster, the thunder muffled by Michael's hands. Gavin turned his head and watched it all.

His heart felt like it was beating harder with each strike, and his breaths came faster with each one. His fingers dug into the muscles of Michael's shoulders, pulling and trying to get that much closer.

Gavin didn't hear the sound Michael made, but he felt his breath on his lips before the tender hold of his head drew him into a kiss.

His feet were dangling in the free air and he was surrounded by a lightning storm, but none of that mattered. Gavin arched into Michael, crushing in close and opening his mouth for the wet hot push of his tongue. He felt the pleased hum from Michael and the tightening of his fingers in Gavin's hair.

His life was mad. Just utterly mad. Gavin felt something-- _hysterical_ grow in his chest, something raw and angry and scared and amazed.  He didn't know what he was doing or how to stop it, just surged into Michael as much as possible and kissed him like it was the last thing he knew how to do. Michael took it, fingers curving around the back of Gavin's skull to hold him, letting Gavin's tongue fight his, pushing back, giving it his all.

The sound around them was staccato but deafening, and Gavin was sure the protective hold over his ears was the only thing keeping them from ringing. Everything was muffled and unclear.

Gavin drew away, only a hair's breadth from Michael's face and said, "I don't know what I'm meant to do anymore. Griffon's teaching me all these things for me to be better and now they don't want my help and worst yet I _can't_ help them and I feel like I'm going _mental_ , Michael, I just want you to-- to fucking throw me over your shoulder and take me to Australia or Russia or wherever the fuck--" He sucked in a deep breath, struggling with the tightness in his throat. He couldn't hear what he was saying, the sound too faint and drowned out by the storm, and each word fell from his memory the moment it left his lips, a stone thrown into a deep ocean, there and gone. It propelled him like a pure fuel rocket. "The Keys, I want to go to the Keys and to the beach and not look at that _fucking_ lab for a month at least, but I can't tell her that, I can't be such an ungrateful shit. I don't want you to steal me, that's a lie, but I--" His voice failed, and it took another deep breath to recover it again. "I wish you would."

He wanted to delude himself into thinking Michael hadn't heard it all over the din around them, but his bright amber eyes were steady on Gavin's, and his lips parted. He started to say something, stopped, and put his forehead against Gavin's.

Gavin shuddered, all of a sudden drained and so worn out he couldn't put two thoughts together. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sought out Michael's mouth again and found a much gentler kiss for it.

He stayed pressed in close, greedy for every morsel of warmth and comfort Michael would give him. That was what this was for, Gavin knew. Michael didn't speak openly about much of anything, not when he could just glower or talk around it, but he put things together in ways Gavin couldn’t, he _handled_ things that Gavin never could. He watched and reacted with such a sense of gravity that Gavin could see why people called him a god.

He was a capricious shit, but most people didn't know that. Gavin did, obviously, but didn’t mind.

Michael's hands slid off his ears, and Gavin could hear again. It was quieter, the light-and-sound show over. Gavin looked down and smiled with no small amount of regret and resignation as they drifted down to the house again.

"Thanks," Gavin said.

Michael nodded. "Of course."

When they got back to the ground, they weren't alone. Geoff was on the porch.

He was in his suit.

"Did you not want to fucking mention before taking Gavin on a fucking joyride, sparky?" Geoff asked, hard and angry.

Michael raised his eyebrows. There was no sign on his face that he felt threatened, just surprised. He didn't so much as rock back on his heels as he floated a half foot away, tilting his head at Geoff. "Didn't realize I needed to."

Geoff looked at Gavin with a heavy, tense look around his eyes. He looks Gavin over, like he was checking something before he shook his head and his faceplate came down, covering his expression. "Gavin, get in the house."

"What?" Gavin looked down at the ground, still a few inches away. "What, what's going on?"

There was a beat of silence before Geoff sighed, the noise tinny and distant. "Gav, please. Dan's getting suited up. Michael, we need you with us."

Without another word, Michael touched down and let Gavin go onto the soft, wet grass. "What happened?"

"Austin HQ's been hit. We need to go, now."


	6. the classic smash and grab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: same as rest, now with superhero violence too. shout out to toby for ripping this chapter apart and making it a million times better while I cried and fussed.

Michael was still soaked to the bone and his hair was plastered down against his forehead as he followed Geoff through the air into Austin. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gruchy's flashier suit as he struggled to keep up. Any other time, he would have slowed down to at least _try_ to help the poor son of a bitch.

Not today, not with Geoff taking off from the house in such a rush, they had to have a chance at catching the people behind the attacks. They were close, practically in the Ramsey's back yard. So when Geoff pushed his suit to fly faster, Michael followed.

No wonder Geoff had been angry. Getting word that his closest facility had been hit and then being unable to find Gavin… Michael shook his head, ignoring the knot in his chest. He hadn't meant anything by their storm outing but to help Gavin with the stress of the last few days, but his timing couldn't have been more awful.

Michael spun in the air, flying backwards as he reached out and sought that which was a part of him. He felt it, the metal that had been forged from the eternal storm of a turbulent, desolate planet. With a mental pull, he drew it to him, and in seconds his hammer returned to him, flying past Gruchy on its path back to his hand.

"Christ, mate!" Gruchy yelped. "Be careful with that!"

Michael ignored him; he wasn't going to hit Gruchy. Maybe he wanted to drive lightning into the man's skull every time he said anything about Gavin, but Michael's life had become a rehabilitation from his fury and hair-trigger temper.

It was still tempting though. That was the best thing about lightning; you could always say it was an accident.

Before Michael could entertain the idea any further

(one more remark from Gruchy and the way Gavin froze up in hurt shock before remembering he should laugh, that hesitation long enough that Michael would remove the smug asshole from the earth's surface before it was over and Gavin would never be called a slut by his smug ex ever again, it'd be _great_ )

Geoff called back to them, "ETA two minutes! Get in there, find anyone who looks shifty and fucking remove them with extreme prejudice."

Ramsey Enterprises Austin Headquarters was normally a shining gem in the Austin skyline. It was a stout, sturdy tower of green granite with huge panes of blue glass. Set in a perfectly-landscaped courtyard, the building was well situated to catch the light of the city around it, making it gleam even brighter.

Tonight, the tower was lit by its burning courtyards and the occasional lightning flash left over from Michael's storm. The building itself was dark, along with the surrounding block.

"Shit. That's not good." Geoff pulled up, looking around from the air. "Michael, Dan, get to the lower levels and the labs. I need to shut down the arc reactor."

"Is it on? Everything's blacked out."

"Doesn't work like that. The arc reactor's unstable technology, that's why we've got the only full-scale one in the country and keep it close by. That fucker puts out three gigajoules a minute." He tipped his head to the side. "I'm getting bad readings here. Gavin! Get Griffon on the horn, she needs to walk me through the manual shutdown procedures!" Geoff took off, presumably to where the reactor was stored.

Michael looked at Gruchy's faceplate. "Where's the best place to start our sweep?"

"What're you asking me for?" Gruchy asked, then paused. "Oh. Gav says ground floor, down a level, then take the maintenance elevator down."

"On our way." Michael turned in the air and dived, aiming for the glass front of the entryway.

He smashed through the windows, bringing a hail of broken glass as he tucked and rolled across the foyer, stopping with a loud, wet squeak as he planted one boot on the tiles. He looked up and two men pointed automatic rifles at him, gaping at his abrupt entrance with glowing red eyes.

 _Red sky, take warning._ Michael swung his hammer towards one of them, letting it go so it propelled into the man's gut, taking him clean off his feet and into the wall.

The other watched his companion fall, then opened fire on Michael.

Michael unfolded, walking into the barrage of bullets bent forward like a man moving through a hard wind. "Oh no, _bad move, motherfucker_!"

* * *

 

Gavin tore his attention away from his work to look over his shoulder to Griffon. "How's it going?"

There was a play going down, they knew. Not only were these mysterious attackers after labs like before, they were in the presence of the arc reactor. There would be no need for any enigmatic super-hot explosions with the reactor there; it could easily take out the entire city block if not properly contained. The reactor’s output was enormous, which was great for Ramsey Enterprises and their projects but bad for everyone when the bad guys were inside the building.

Griffon had a headset on as she used Gavin's glass boards to pull up all the schematics for the reactor and the manual shutdown procedures. "Well, I'm on hold while my husband beats some demon-eyed assholes into a pulp, but then we'll be ready to go." She offered him a small smile. "I've got this. Keep on with Dan."

Right. Dan. Gavin couldn't leave him on his own without back-up. They'd worked out a decent system with Gavin handling the more advanced mechanics of the suit while Dan just kept them moving. It wasn't fun and Gavin wished it weren't necessary, but Dan needed a few more months of training before he was battle-ready without Gavin hitching a ride in his head.

He turned back to his blue light suite, glancing over the numbers he was being given, taking fast stock of what was happening before even looking into the video relay. They were still in the main floors of the facility and already meeting resistance.

Michael was taking down everything in his path with wide arced swings of his hammer, holding it just by the leather band. Gavin lept into the controls for the suit, seizing control for a moment to propel Dan away with the left hand and right foot thruster, letting the suit spin and using the momentum to kick one of the attackers in the face.

“Welcome back, B!” Dan thanked him breathlessly. “You with me?”

“Ta, B, I am. Keep moving.”

The two of them (or three of them, in a sense) made it to the maintenance elevator before they were met with the attackers’ trump card.

One red-eyed woman stood in front of the elevator and as she watched them approach, her skin seem to separate; the fatigues covering her chest smoldered as her mouth opened wide and a jet of fire burst out, filling the room and expanding towards them.

Michael made a pained sound before the fire even reached him, the heat alone too much, and Dan began to backpedal.

Gavin swore and took control again, throwing the suit into the woman and further. He lifted the legs and turned on the thrusters until the suit and the woman crashed through the elevator doors and into the open shaft, where Gavin dropped her.

“I’m not really enjoying this two-men-one-suit thing anymore, Gavin! That was mental!”

Gavin scrubbed a hand down his face. “The suits got a coating of the Austinion compound yesterday. It’d take a heavy, sustained temperature increase to even start to heat up.”

“Could have said.”

“No time.”

The video feed showed Dan looking around, then back at Michael. He was peeling off his jacket, abandoning it the floor and leaving just his shirt of proto-Adamantium and his bare arms, nothing but rain-damp skin and tattoos.

Michael was smiling, and Dan asked, “Who the hell are you grinning at?”

“Not you,” Michael said curtly, nodding to Dan-- to Gavin, before looking down the elevator shaft. “Okay. I’ll smash them, you be Gavin’s eyes and take out anyone who does that fucking absurd fire breathing trick. Clear?”

Dan nodded. “Clear. After you, Mogar.”

Michael snorted, just stepped into the open air and for once let gravity have him.

* * *

 

The lower levels of Ramsey Enterprises HQ were dark, only lit by few green emergency lights. They blinked in a rolling pattern, imitating movement and directing people to the emergency exits.

Michael stepped forward, walking in the exact opposite direction. Glass crunched under his feet, a quiet sound that echoed down the long, foreboding hallways. There was no one in sight, but there was plenty of damage. The walls of clean white concrete were scorched in some places, crumbling in others. As he walked, he found one of the metal security doors had been ripped out of it's housing and throw into the wall, embedding there like a throwing knife into a target.

Michael detoured, looking into that lab. "Clear." Whatever it had been, it was too ransacked to tell.

He found Gruchy further down the hallway, checking another hallway. "Software development. Clear." Then, Gruchy looked around more carefully. "No, B, no sign of anyone. Doesn't look like he was here for it."

"Who?" Michael asked.

"Bloke called JJ, head of department." Then, without Dan looking, the arm of the suit flew up, pointing down the hallway. The repulsors whined before firing a beam down into the darkness.

Michael sprang back before hurling his hammer down, trusting the suit's aim to be true. It connected with something that screamed, a strange metallic sound.

There were more of them very suddenly. The hallways was spacious enough for RE researchers, but not so much for a thunder god, an Iron Man prosthesis, and some fiery assholes.

The temperature increased around them, and Michael stumbled back from the force of it, taken off guard. Sweat popped up over his skin as he called his hammer back and threw it again. His target ducked and the hammer soared over his head; he didn't dodge it again as it returned, slamming into his back.

Every one of them were burning red like metal left to sit over open flame. Michael bounced away on his toes, out of the heat. "Gavin, every one of these guys is shot up on the Extremis thing! What the hell is going on?"

More repulsor beams were fired at the Extremis infiltrators, who stumbled from the force but were otherwise unharmed.

"Oh, shit," Gruchy said before the suit launched forward. Probably piloted by Gavin, it drove a knee into the one of the Extremis men, taking him down like a jungle cat pouncing. On a whim, Michael pulled at a crackling energy deep inside him, something light but heavily charged, snapping and hissing. He bundled it in his palm and threw it at the third Extremis agent.

Electricity broke over the man and he went down screaming, the white hot sparks running through the metallic parts of his body under his skin. It conducted and built until the man was just twitching on the floor.

A plume of fire met them as they checked down the hallway to the left. Michael dodged and waited as Dan and Gavin took care of it. "There's more this way! Looks like we found them," Dan said.

* * *

 

Gavin turned to look at Griffon. "Is the reactor stable?"

Griffon covered her mic with a hand. "Almost. We've reactivated the failsafes and are watching it level out. Why?"

"It's weird... The Extremis guys bypassed the medical labs and the software and even weapons testing and are bunched up over near synthesis."

He suddenly had Griffon's full attention. "Extremis guys, as in people working for Extremis?"

"As in people who are loaded up on the stuff."

"They're not exploding?"

"No? I mean, not yet."

Griffon dug a hand into her hand. "Holy shit. Geoff, I gotta run to the other lab. Call Gav if you need backup." She whipped the headset off and jogged across the lab to the door. "Gavin, stay on them and keep an eye out for what they're taking. _Fuck_."

"What? What?"

"The Austinion. They're after the new element."

"Then.... then we're okay, right? I mean, there's no more in the lab and they can't make it without..." He pointed to his shoulder.

"They don't know that yet." She clicked her fingers and pointed to his work. "Keep on the boys, keep them alive, I need to try something in the fab lab."

* * *

 

Michael was loathe to admit it, but Gruchy was getting the hang of things.

It was always very obvious when Gavin took control of the suit. He moved in short, contained bursts, motion with absolute precision. He was perfectly deadly for about three seconds before it just... stopped. Gavin had no follow-through, just took opportunities when he saw them.

It became harder to tell when Gavin was in control and when Gruchy was taking over. Gruchy started to keep moving, using the set-ups Gavin laid out to take out more combatants.

Which was good, because they found a lot of them.

The Extremis agents were crawling all over the synthesis labs, and they put up a considerable offense. The air was filled with fire and the sound of metal and several heavy pieces of lab equipment lobbed like baseballs right at Michael and Gruchy.

It put them on the defensive. Michael had to throw himself around like a wrecking ball, taking hits when he could manage them but mostly keeping in motion to dodge the fucking fire breath and heavy metal desks thrown at him.

Gruchy was blasting his gauntlets all over, taking everything he could out of the equation before it got to them.

Even through the din, Michael heard someone yelling from the next room, "It's not fucking here! There's no samples, no schematics, nothing more than a fucking project outline and the patent filing."

Michael darted under a chunk of the concrete wall that flew at him, sliding along the floor and spinning, his hammer outstretched. "Gavin! They are _definitely_ after the fucking element!"

"You get that, B?" Gruchy asked, in the middle of picking up ammunition of his own to throw. "B?"

Michael watched as the mass of broken metal Gruchy lifted suddenly slipped from his gauntlets. He overbalanced into the wall, all his grace suddenly gone. "B, what's happening?"

The metal fell and landed full against Gruchy, the weight making him stagger more. The suit's lights all flickered once, only for a half second, but it was long enough; the suit dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut and dragged Gruchy to the ground, hard. The lights returned and the speakers came back on just in time to catch Gruchy in the middle of a pained scream.

Two more Extremis agents rounded the corner, saw the suit downed, and opened their mouths, showing the fire and molten metal inside.

All at once, Michael felt as though a hook had caught his spine, jerking hard. He knew in an instant that he was needed, that he had an oath to fulfill, to go and protect. It was a promise that pumped through his bloodstream, as much a part of him as the lightning and wind.

The beacon. Gavin was in trouble.

And fucking Gruchy was pinned and there were Extremis agents all around them, closing in.

"No. NO, this is NOT FUCKING HAPPENING! NOT AGAIN!" Michael slammed his hammer into the wall, feeling it settle against the flow of the emergency power. He dragged the electricity up along the metal and into his body, screaming in a rage as he hurled lightning and fury at every red-eyed motherfucker he saw.

* * *

 

The power went out, though not all at once.

The blue light wrapped around Gavin stuttered as he was in the middle of guiding Dan through a maneuver. The feeds froze, came back, then failed entirely as the suite went dead around him and under his feet.

The design lab fell into darkness. Even the rows of servers, normally humming faintly with all the data and processing power Gavin used on a daily basis, went silent. Suddenly, he could hear his own heartbeat and the distant sound of the rain outside and nothing else.

Gavin froze, waiting, as though the outage was temporary and might remedy itself.

The power didn't come back. The darkness around him absolute as he stood in the lab, unsure what to do.

Then, the tunnel above the launchpad bent inward with a loud metallic squeal, like a great weight had fallen on it. Gavin yelped, stumbling backward into his desk. He should hide. It was pitch black; if he hid no one would find him.

The door to the lab opened and orange light pooled in as a man stood there. He wore a fine suit with a precisely knotted tie and his skin glowed like hot coals.

His smile was bright and hellish. "Dr. Ramsey-Free. Just the man I was looking for." He stepped into the lab, flanked by other Extremis agents. "Tell me: where's your mom?"

Gavin let out a distressed, wordless squeak and scrambled to grab his pendant. _Michael, Michael, help, oh fuck help..._

"What is that? Demarais, grab that thing, will you?"

The seal over the launchpad's tunnel gave way and three more Extremis agents fell from it into the lab. Gavin turned to look to them and missed it as one agent crossed the room to him, grabbing and pinning his arms behind him. Cuffs clicked on around Gavin’s wrists as he tried to pull away, kicking and yelling. Demarais tossed Gavin into the desk, holding him down against it with one sweltering hot hand between his shoulder blades.

The chain around his neck was pulled and broke. He could see the Bifrost pendant falling to the ground.

The man in the suit walked forward and stepped on it. Then, he lifted his shoe. "What the fuck, really?" He tried to smash it again, only to find it unharmed. "All right, never fucking mind."

"Do you want me to find Griffon Ramsey, sir?" Demarais asked, still holding Gavin in place.

The man in the suit grinned. "Oh, she'll be along."

* * *

 

By the time the last Extremis-charged fucker fell to Michael's hammer, he was breathing hard. His arm hurt to move, the burns there searing through his skin. He felt himself begin to heal, but it still stung like a motherfucker.

Gruchy was still on the ground. "I-- I can't make it move, I don't what the balls is happening."

Michael grit his teeth and kicked the metal off of Gruchy with one solid hit, sending it across the ground with a loud rattle. "We gotta go, Gavin needs me." He bent to grab Gruchy's arm, pulling him up. "Come on, come on."

Then, the world decided to just be fucking unfair.

One more Extremis agent stepped out of the shadows. He was holding a familiar metal box, the lid open.

As Michael stilled and watched, he pulled three syringes from the box, and said in a calm, clear voice, “For the future of humanity,” before driving the needles into his chest.

“No,” Michael said, stunned. “No, no, _no_ , you can’t do this now, I don't have the fucking _time_!”

The man let the box fall from his hands and stood still before them. It was only a second before he started to glow, a red-orange light shining from his chest through his shirt.

“Goddammit, _GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT,_ ” Michael screamed before dropping Dan. He ran forward, caught the Extremis bomber and called his hammer into his hand. Michael felt the remains of the electric power in its metal and reached for it, coaxing it along the hammer until spidering waves of electricity engulfed the metal.

He sprang up, hammer above his head, and forced himself upward through the metal and concrete floors. They resisted him; he pushed on, forcing a hole through the layers until he ascended through the lab floor, the lower levels, the main floor, and burst into open air through the courtyard.

Then he flew fast, ascending at speeds that would kill any human. He felt the man in his arms go limp and wondered for a second which was worst, dying in flames or at the hand of pressure and g-force.

Michael flew up past the storm, up to where the air was thinner and things were even colder. By then, his arms were burning from holding the Extremis agent, his body already gone so hot Michael could barely stand it.

He was cutting it too close.

Putting on the last bit of speed he could, Michael let go of the man, releasing him to the sky, and flipped back, flying back down as quickly as he could.

As he hit the clouds, he flung out his hammer arm, letting the force and weight of it spin him like a top. He stirred the air, calling for the weather to hear him and be sympathetic to his desires. The storms of Earth, the storms of his realm, they answered the same way; with adoration and fealty to their patron and lord.

The storm’s power increased, the clouds thickening and the lightning flashing ever faster. It heeded him, covering Austin with cold rain and harsh winds.

He felt the explosion when it happened, the initial hot wave as it burst behind him followed by an even hotter one.

The rain around him sizzled and evaporated, the cold wind growing hot, like a gust over a desert. All of his work, undone.

Unable to resist the urge to see something in this realm that would impress him, the exiled prince spun around and watched as the sky burned.

* * *

 

Gavin watched as Griffon walked into the lab with a gauntlet on each of her hands, a mobile reactor strapped to her chest. The green-blue light was bright in the dark lab, but was washed out by the red-orange glow of the Extremis agents.

"Mrs. Ramsey, nice of you to join us." The man in the suit held Gavin with one solid hand on his shoulder. It was tucked under his lab coat and shirt to press against his skin. Gavin's teeth ground together against the stinging heat of the man's hand. "Now, don't do anything rash. Wouldn't want anyone to get caught in the crossfire."

"Joel Heyman," Griffon said. "I remember you. Showing up at everyone's door like a bad vacuum salesman peddling broken technology."

The heat against Gavin's skin increased and he couldn't keep from yelping and trying to jerk away. "Stop, stop!"

Griffon's eyes flickered to him, her hands shaking. "Let him go."

"Let him go? Let my only leverage against you just walk away? Please." Heyman rolled his eyes. "I'm going to make this quick because I don't think we'll be all cozy and alone for long; the new element you're developing. I want everything you have on it. How to produce it, its applications, and all of the material you have on hand."

"What do you want it for?"

Joel held out a finger and shook it. "No. No, we are on a _tight_ schedule here. No sinister monologuing, no funny banter. Give me the element or I'll cook your kid until he's medium-well."

Her hands shook. "You'd be shooting yourself in the foot. You've been to the synthesis labs, you know none of the information is there. Gavin and I are the only two people in the world who can make more of the Austinion."

"Oh, you called it Austinion? Nice, I like it, hometown shout out but still professional-sounding." He nodded to the door. "Go get what you have of it."

Griffon stared at Gavin, gaze hard. He met it for a moment until the heat started to blister his skin. His face pinched with the pain and he looked away, not wanting her to have to see. His eyes stung, and the tears that ran down his cheeks were soothingly cool against him.

"Stop, just _stop_ , I mean it, I-- I don't have any right now, _please_ don't fucking hurt him!"

"Griffon," Gavin couldn't keep from whimpering.

"It's okay, sweetie, it's okay," she told him, voice tight. "It'll be okay."

Demarais spoke up suddenly. "Sir, we have movement from Ramsey Enterprises--"

"Yeah, okay." Heyman threw Gavin into the arms of his agents. "Get the helicopter in the air."

Griffon moved to follow as they made to leave, the repulsor gauntlets lifted and whining.

Heyman looked at her, shook his head, and lifted his bare hand to point at Gavin. The light shining from his fingers intensified, and Gavin ducked his head, feet scrambling against the ground as he tried to force the people holding him to move further away. "I'm not here to play, Ramsey."

Griffon watched Gavin for a long moment before shutting her eyes and lowering the gauntlets. "Please, don't do this, just--"

"You're gonna want to cook up some more Austinion," Heyman said as he ushered everyone out of the design lab. "We'll be in touch soon."

"Griffon, GRIFFON! No, let me go!" Fear propelled him, and Gavin fought with all his might, trying to break away from the hold. If he could just get away, Griffon could use the gauntlets, it'd be okay--

Someone hit Gavin hard, a blow right to the skull, and he fell into darkness.

* * *

 

Michael flew back to the ranch house, following the beacon as fast as he could.

It was dark and quiet. The launchpad had been broken into and Michael dropped down through it, rushing to get where he needed to be.

As he landed, Griffon looked up. She was at the powerbox, a flashlight in her hands. When he looked at her, he saw a sharpness to her eyes, an almost manic worry. "You. He called you," she said in a dull voice.

Michael couldn't give her his attention. He felt the pulsing call beckoning him closer. It was on the floor, by the desk.

He picked up the pendant and the Bifrost went quiet, it's purpose fulfilled. It was safe.

Gavin was nowhere in sight.

Griffon slammed the power box closed and lights came on. They were pale and weak, but illuminated the lab. "Out of the way, I have to..." she pushed past him, letting out a soft annoyed sound when he stood and stared dumbly, and started to boot up the computers. "They've already got a head start, I need to find where they are before they get too far away."

"What..." Michael looked around, like Gavin might be just hiding in the corner. "How did they..."

"They walked in and they fucking took him out of my hands, Michael!" She snapped. "And where were _you_?"

Michael opened his mouth to reply as Geoff touched down behind him, carrying a limp,  dangling Gruchy over his shoulder. Geoff wasted no time carrying him over to a workbench and laying him down. "Where's Gavin? We need the manual unlocks."

"He's gone," Michael said quietly. "Holy shit, they took him."

Griffon slammed her hands on the desk. "He _called you_ \--"

"Gruchy got taken out, I had to--" Michael shut his eyes, trying to keep calm. There was an anger building in him even as he tried to douse it. "I had to keep the fucking building from exploding, okay! He called me and Gruchy fucking went down--"

Gruchy lifted his head. "B was in the middle of something and everything cut out, all right, it's not my fault."

"If you couldn't fucking handle the suit, why did you come along?!" Michael whirled on him. "If you could handle your own shit, I wouldn't have had to save you and I could have fucking came when he called!"

"Well, sorry to cut into your bloody heroics!"

"My-- my _heroics_ , you piece of shit, this isn't about me," Michael roared. "I _promised_ him!"

Geoff stepped between Michael and Gruchy, his hand raised. The repulsor was dim, but it wouldn't take much for it to power up. "Michael, calm down, _now_. Griffon, give us somewhere to start looking."

She was staring at the monitor, face pale. "I can't turn on his locator. They... must have found it first, disabled it. By the time I got us online, they were out of visual range. Geoff, I-- I don't know where he is."

No. Not again. He didn't get called just to fucking drop the ball again, he promised Gavin he'd be there. That was the point of giving him the fucking pendant, so Michael could protect him.

"Michael, _calm the fuck down_ ," Geoff said. All around them, the lights were going in and out. One popped, raining down a shower of sparks.

More than anything, Michael wanted to take his hammer, go to fucking Gruchy and--

He gripped his hair, pulling hard. "Fuck. _Fuck_!" He backed away from everyone. "God- _fucking_ -dammit!"

"Michael--"

Michael threw up a hand, lightning spidering between his fingers, and Geoff went silent, useless platitudes dying on his lips. Slowly, Michael clenched his hand into a shaking fist that glittered with static, struggling to think through the rage--

If Gruchy hadn't-- if the Extremis agent hadn't set himself up to explode-- if _someone_ had stayed behind with Gavin and Griffon--

He pressed his fist into the side of his head, knuckling his temple and staggering backwards into the corner. The storm was in him, pressure behind his eyes and heat over his skin, warring with jagged ice collecting in his ribs, cutting into his heart with every fast beat.

He needed to leave. He needed to leave _right now_.

He kicked off and flung himself out of the lab and into the air, rising like a bolt of lightning, trailing rage and grief and pain like sparks until he disappeared above the gathering storm.


	7. ways and means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: mention of off-screen torture, superhero violence

The two days after Gavin was taken were the hardest of Griffon's life.

As if having Gavin taken right out of her hands wasn't bad enough (and god, it was, the way his miles of long limbs just went limp when he was hit, that sort of stillness in Gavin was so fucking unnatural it made her stomach twist to think about it) they couldn't even look for him right away. Michael lost his mind and took off for the dark skies, leaving Geoff and Griffon to handle Dan.

Geoff de-suited to free himself up. "The back paneling is bent in. We're gonna need the manual unlock tools."

Finding the damn things alone had taken five minutes because only Gavin knew where in his lab that sort of shit was kept. More than anything Griffon wanted to hit him upside the head and tell him to make his lab more accessible to everyone else. Of course, that was when she felt a full flash of _he's gone_ hit her.

There wasn't any time to spare. She found the tools on one of the far work stations near the servers. With them, she and Geoff worked to free Dan from the suit. It came apart in pieces, and before long they found Dan was bleeding underneath.

"Shit," Geoff said. "I need to get him to the hospital."

Griffon shut her eyes. They were going to run out of time. The longer they spent not looking for Gavin, the harder it would be to find him and bring him home. "Right."

They carefully picked Dan out of the suit, discarding armor plates and panels to the floor until enough of it was out of the way. It would've been be interesting, like cracking into a fiber optic lobster, if not for the time table hanging over them.

The ambulance arrived quickly at least.

Geoff went with Dan, leaving Griffon alone. "He doesn't have anyone else on this side of the Atlantic," Geoff reminded her, face drawn and looking about ten years older than he had at the start of the day. She understood and nodded as Geoff promised to be back as soon as Dan was settled.

She stayed on the porch until the ambulance vanished off their property. It took a little longer before the sound of the sirens died away.

In the kitchen, Griffon poured herself a glass of whiskey, drank it, poured another, and threw the empty bottle into the fireplace with a hard scream of frustration.

Then it was time to get back to work. She had to get things rolling. She needed to get everyone she knew out there looking for Heyman and her boy.

* * *

 

Griffon understood the importance of appearances in a woman CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world, so she dragged a comb through her hair and pulled a blazer on before walking into the office and starting her calls.

The first on her list was Jose Jones, who developed software for various projects at RE. He was freelance, but had been cashing checks from RE for over a year now and had his own office with a view. Monty, the head of Oum Designs, had tried to poach him a few times, a friendly bit of corporate espionage. So far, JJ had stuck around in Austin, but he never signed on permanently, so Griffon knew it might not be long before she had to fill his position.

That day wasn't today though; she called JJ, heedless of the late (possibly early) hour.

There was no answer initially, just the dialing timing out. She sighed, ready to click on JJ's name again when a chat window popped up.

_what is up, lady queen?_

Griffon pressed her lips together in a severe line and typed back: _Pick up the damn call or I will override your system and do it for you._

She called again, and the screen instantly indicated JJ's acceptance. The video feed came on; it was dark, the only light a bright blue one, likely from JJ's monitor itself. He was sitting up in bed, shirtless with his sheets pulled across his lap. Behind him, Griffon could see that yet another RE software intern had gotten the Jose Jones Welcome Package. Any other day, she'd take the opportunity to congratulate him on his five-and-oh streak, but it wasn't the time.

"Jesus, Mrs. Ramsey, where's the fire?"

"Well, the Austin HQ is probably still burning, but that's not what I'm calling about," Griffon told him sharply. "Gavin's been taken by a man named Joel Heyman. He's behind the Nevada explosion and the security breach in New York."

JJ blinked like he was only just now coming out of sleep. "Are you serious?"

"I need you to get everything you can on the guy, everywhere he might be holed up. He was the lead guy behind something called Extremis back a few years ago. Find everyone who survived that program, ask them where their old haunts were. Get me _everything_ and then use whatever resources you have to find Gavin."

JJ swore. "Hang on--" He rolled to the other end of the bed, giving Griffon a good shot of his ass as he pawed at and grabbed his tablet from the far nightstand. His bedmate stirred and asked, "Whassmatter?"

"Code fucking red emergency. Can you make some coffee?" He rubbed the man's shoulder, squeezing. "Thanks, Blaine." Then, he returned his attention to Griffon. "Joel Heyman, Extremis."

She nodded. "Get me everything you can on them. Talk to everyone connected to the project. Find Gavin. Use everything you have, JJ."

His eyes flicked up to her, his lip catching against his teeth. "Everything?"

"If anything goes awry, you'll have RE's full legal team," she assured him. They both knew what she was asking him to do; she didn't care, and would worry about the consequences later.

"Will do," he said dutifully. He reached out and killed the call himself.

Coffee sounded excellent, especially then. She wanted to make her own pot of it and take a moment to gather herself, perhaps give herself some time to have a cup out of the French press and wake up.

There was no chance for that; she had another pressing call to make.

Griffon said the name "Joel Heyman," and Commander Sorola took off his glasses to rub his eyes and said, "Oh shit."

It was creeping close to four in the morning, and Sorola looked perfectly put together in his suit and tie and BYTE badge. She wondered if he'd just gotten into the office or if he'd just not gone home. Perhaps he lived in BYTE Tower. She would not be surprised in the least.

"Tell me everything."

"Not much you don't already know," Sorola said, face pulling tight as he thought. "Big VC guy back in the day, got involved with a dead-end project. He was a smart man who knew what to put his money into until the Extremis project caught his eye. He was one of the… God, it has to be something like twenty percent? One of the _very few_ survivors of the treatment."

That confirmed her suspicions. That was what he wanted the Austinion for. "So he's trying to make it work. And more than that, that's what the syringes were for." She shook her head, the sheer body count of the project disgusting her. And Gavin was stuck with them. "They turned the useless seventy-eighty percent of the rabble into something useful."

Sorola's eyes narrowed. "You know about.... _goddammit_ , Griffon, we could have helped you if--"

"Yeah, it's funny how you kidnap someone's kid and shove a huge needle in his chest _one time_ and people have a hard time trusting you," she told him, voice low and sardonic. She still remembered that day well, how Gavin had sat at the dining table with a bandage taped to his collar and excitedly chattered on about how Captain America was even _better_ in person than in all the iconography. That he'd been in danger, that it was only Michael's necklace that let them find him so quickly, had been entirely lost Gavin.

Under the desk, out of sight, Griffon's hand fisted, her nails biting into her palm. "Help us find him and maybe you'll repair some of that damage, Gus."

Sorola sighed. "Fine. Fine, I'll have my people on it."

"Thank you," Griffon said. Deep down she was hoping this wouldn't just switch from one kidnapping situation to another, but at least she knew where BYTE was, knew what they wanted with Gavin. They were the known element, even if they were a pretty shitty element most of the time.

God, had their lives always been such a fucking disaster?

She ended the feed to BYTE and sat in the quiet of the office for a moment. It was strange, how neat and organized the office was. Outside, she was entirely missing her Nevada R&D facility, had to deal with a heavily damaged headquarters, and the home labs...

It was easy to recall, just by shutting her eyes. The design lab was a mess, with chunks of the second suit discarded around the workbenches carelessly, the panels that normally covered the launchpad tunnel left in bent pieces on the floor, and a few of the lights still flickering in the wake of Michael's tantrum. Compared to the state of their other labs, it was a palace estate, but it was still difficult to think about without feeling imbued with a sense of _wrongness_.

It felt like the spaces they gave Gavin, starting from the loft above their house all the way to the state-of-the-art design lab, were under attack. She wanted to take a laser cutter to every sorry son of a bitch who had the gall to fuck with them.

It was Michael's bad luck that Griffon was still in laser cutter revenge mode when he returned. The storms outside had cleared up, and the local alien exile let himself into the house through Gavin's balcony, changing into dry clothes before seeking her out.

She was in the kitchen, hands curled around a cup of coffee when he found her. His head was bowed low, his hair curling from the rain and dripping periodically on the floor.

"I'm back," he said.

Griffon took a sip of her coffee. "Yep."

The brusque reply made his shoulders sag further, which was some feat. "What can I do to help?" Michael asked, voice low and demure.

She shook her head. "I have no leads. I don't know where to start looking. Until I hear back from people, there is nothing to do."

"But, we--" Michael was loud again, just like that, before apparently remembering his yoga breathing or whatever. He stopped, swallowing thickly. "We can't just... not find him."

Her mug clanked against the kitchen island when she set it down. "Listen. I know that you're used to the heroics and checking what room in the house Gav is in with your little keepsake and telling him you'll keep him safe but here is the thing: _you didn't_ ," Griffon said, whip-sharp, reaching out to push Michael away.

He stumbled back.

That more than anything made her see red. The art of playing human was one Michael was pretty good at, but the secret was that a lot of it was an act. That act included the stumble, the lack of certainty in his steps, and every single time he _let_ himself be moved. The alien storm god didn't just move when a human pushed him; he chose to be moved.

And that fucking pissed Griffon off even more.

"Is this a game to you?" She planted a hand on his chest and pushed, and he went back against the countertop, eyes dim like the unnatural light in them had been snuffed out. "Pretending to be one of the humans, but never committing? When you put that thing around his neck, did you never think he'd actually use it?"

"I..." His throat clicked wetly. "I got here as quickly as I could. That doesn't make it better, but I-- Griffon, I swear, I'll get him back."

She rolled her eyes. "All this machismo doesn't do me any good."

His temper spiked again. "It's not machismo! I love him, I'll do anything to keep him safe, why is that so fucking hard?"

"Maybe because I love him and it's not something I get to walk away from when I'm mad or when I want to travel to Moscow or whatever--"

"I'm not walking away from it! I have to go and try to help out where I can, that's the _point_ of-- of all of this!"

"You fucking flew off!"

"I was trying not to _hurt anybody!_ " Michael dug one hand through his curls, pulling at them brutally. "This-- this rage god thing comes with some baggage! I'm sorry it kept me away!"

"You don't show up to help him, you can't keep a hold of your temper--"

"No, don't go there," Michael growled. "I'd sooner throw myself back into the void than hurt him."

"--And you think I'm going to let you take him with you?" She laughed, sharp and furious. "I know about Australia. He's not even safe here at home and you want to whisk him to the other side of the world?"

Michael's mouth dropped open, but he had nothing to say. Griffon watched him as he leaned away, arms limp at his sides, body almost diminishing into a smaller man. "This... Griffon, let me help, _please_."

There was something satisfying about laying into Michael and seeing him just take each hit. She wanted to shake him, to scream in his face because at least then she could protect Gavin from _someone_ , even if she failed to protect him from Heyman.

"Hey, that's enough!" Geoff said, making both Griffon and Michael look up in surprise. He was in the kitchen entryway, still dressed in his black undersuit from neck to toe. "We are _not_ going to do this right now, guys."

Michael shook his head. "No, it's... it's fine, I get it. I fucked up."

"You fucking saved our HQ and its arc reactor from going up and taking out the entire block. You did what you had to." Geoff walked forward and took Griffon's arms in a loose grip. "Griffon, I know you're scared but we're gonna get him back and-- fucking Christ, protecting Gavin at all hours even in crisis is not the tax Michael pays to be part of this family, right? Heyman's to blame for this shit, not anyone else."

She didn't want him to be right.

She shook her head and scrubbed her face. "How's... Dan, how's Dan?"

"Piece of metal got him in the back, looks like it's not threatening any major organs. He was being prepped for surgery when I left. An advocate is apparently on their way." Geoff rubbed his hands up and down Griffon's arms. "What'd you get for us?"

"JJ's working his channels and I called in a marker with Sorola. I should..." she reached for her tablet. Michael, closer to the table, handed it over to her silently. "Thanks."

Waiting for her was a new message from JJ. Opening it, she found a list of locations. JJ marked them as places the Extremis project had used for their base of operations before, starting with the most recent. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

After she showed them, Geoff nodded. "Which ones do you want, sparky?"

MIchael squinted at the list. "I'll take the European ones. I can get across the Atlantic faster than you can."

"Then I've got the domestic locations," Geoff agreed. "I'm gonna suit back up. Make sure your fucking phone's charged, Michael."

"Right," Michael agreed, some of the light returning to his eyes. He looked at Griffon, caught her gaze fearlessly. "He'll be okay. If he's not, you can start forging that godkiller."

A blink startled out of her. "Right... I will," she said quietly, watching as that promise seemed to make Michael grin.

That boy had issues.

Geoff and Michael were airborne in five minutes, taking off in different directions into the sky. It was just barely dawn, the horizon grey and pink. She had been awake for over a day now, and with the Extremis bomber attacks, she'd not been getting much rest before Heyman knocked down their door.

The wise decision would be to sleep. Sleep, and wait for word, be ready to move.

Griffon instead went down into the fabrication lab. It was time to see what Extremis and Austinion could do together and if Heyman's gamble was worth it in the end.

* * *

 

The next day was a blur for Griffon.

She worked the morning in the lab, using the small amount of Austinion she had left with the samples of Extremis remaining from the injectors. Which translated mostly to setting up machines, telling them what to do, then sitting on a lab bench with her phone in hand, flicking through her video gallery. The Ramsey-Frees were a family that enjoyed their cameras, a leftover from Gavin's time spent in his marketing degree. She had dozens upon dozens of little video clips.

Some were recent; Gavin working with the fabrication lab equipment while Griffon questioned every button he pressed, incessantly pestering him until he whirled around to squawk angrily at her. Geoff and Gavin tucked up into the recliner, playing a game together and failing. Gavin holding the camera as Griffon sat on Geoff's back while he did push-ups.

She caught glimpses of Gavin's older haircuts, even the close-cut he wore for a summer when the Texan heat was just too much to bear with a full head of hair. There was his old lab coat, the one he managed to set on fire with a repulsor cannon.

Before his jaw really came in, his nose had looked so much larger, it made her laugh to see it. Seeing Gavin even before it all, before he walked around with that necklace around his neck, gave her such a wave of nostalgia...

The last video she had that would play was Gavin holding Geoff's hand as Geoff hovered three feet off the ground in the then-new hover boots. Geoff chanted a litany of "oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck" as Gavin pulled him around, smiling bright and flushed with the success of the test.

Griffon set her phone down and put her face in her hands, still and quiet for a while as the lab hummed around her.

Eventually no amount of sheer determination to evade sleep would keep her awake, and Griffon reluctantly retreated upstairs to the bedroom, falling onto the bed in her clothes.

She didn’t dream of anything.

She woke in the late afternoon to Geoff and Michael in the kitchen, looking tired and making breakfast. There were omelets (Michael) and bacon, and hash browns fried with some of the leftover bacon grease (Geoff) and screwdrivers (Griffon).

Neither Michael nor Geoff said anything about their recon. She knew better than to ask.

Griffon checked in with JJ, who had a lot of information, but no location on Gavin. She didn’t bother calling Sorola; he’d let her know when he had something.

The next call they got was from an unknown contact. Without hesitating, Griffon put it on the big screen in the living room.

The video feed came on, and she recognized the angular, wide-eyed face of one of the Extremis agents. He was looking off camera, messing with something; likely their set-up. “Sir? Sir, we have a secure connection.”

“I see that. Demarais, move,” Joel Heyman said, rolling into frame. He was sitting at a mahogany desk in a leather executive chair. He was well-put together with his suit and tie. His eyes were still red though. “Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey. And… Mogar, right?”

“Where’s Gavin?” Griffon asked, forcing her voice to remain level even as she felt her heart beat faster.

“Holding cell. I think he’s asleep right now.” Heyman shrugged. “Let’s get right to it. You want to see your kid again. I want the Austinion. Have you gotten more made?”

Griffon took a deep, steadying breath, willing herself to stay calm. Before she could say anything, Geoff said, “Let us see Gavin.”

Heyman blinked, looking around his room with an incredulous shake of his head. “Uh, why would I do that? This isn’t fucking junior leagues. I have him. You know I do. I don’t see why we’re pulling some Law and Order shit here.” He refocused. “Mrs. Ramsey. The Austinion.”

“I don’t have any more,” Griffon said slowly.

“Why the fuck not? How long does it take to make? Is this going to turn into me putting up your kid for the weekend?” His eyes narrowed, flaring brightly. “Or do I need to incentivize you? Demarais, go fetch Gavin.”

“Don’t!” Griffon snapped. “Don’t hurt him, you’ll… Goddammit.” She grimaced. This was not how she wanted this to go. “You don’t understand, I literally _cannot make it without him_.”

Heyman’s lips twitched as he watched her. “Oh. Oh this is gonna be good.” He leaned back in his chair, bringing his hands together. He started to do the finger steeple, but seemed to stop himself. “Why?”

“The element… we didn’t want anyone to have access to it until we knew what it did and was capable of. We had all samples shipped to our home lab and had R&D _lose_ the process to synthesize it.” They had thought they were being so clever, and Griffon had loved the idea of teaching Gavin the work, just the two of them and something brilliant and new in their hands. “We made it so the synthesis machine would only unlock the process if…”

Heyman leaned in, smirking. “Go on.”

Griffon glared at his smug fucking face. That he was making it into something ridiculous lit a fire in her like nothing else. It had been a fun, sweet idea she and Gavin had come up with after too many drinks while Geoff had been away. They’d laid on the floor of his design suite, drawing complicated diagrams of security systems they could use to keep the element process safe.

Gavin had been the one to tuck his face into her shoulder, giggling, and say, “Griffon, Griffoooon, y’know how you’ve been on me about gettin’ a tat? I’ve got an _idea_.”

She explained: “The machine will make the Austinion only when it’s unlocked by an image code, like how a QR code works.”

“And Gavin knows the image?”

“Gavin _has it_. It’s…” She took another slow breath. “It’s on his arm. His tattoo.”

Geoff, next to her, turned to stare. “What?”

“We were drunk and it-- he finally wanted a tattoo! It seemed like a good idea at the time!” Griffon hissed at him, hard and angry.

“Oh wow.” Heyman said. “Oh wooooow. Okay, hold on.” He held up a hand. “Gonna need a minute.” He turned away from the camera, shaking his head. His voice didn’t pick up on the mic, but he was grinning and talking to someone out of frame.

“It’s _on his arm,_ ” Geoff said, like he didn’t quite believe it.

“Like you’vw never done something stupid with Gavin,” she shot back. “Remind me: how did you meet Michael?”

“Okay!” Heyman clapped his hands. “Here is what is going to happen. Mrs. Ramsey, you are going to detach the QR reader from your synthesizer, take it along with anything related to the Austinion production, and you’re going to meet up with my people. They’re gonna take you to me, and you’re going to hook that thing up for me so I can make my own Austinion.”

“What about Gavin,” Michael asked quietly from where he’d stood silently behind the couch, behind the Ramseys.

“What about him? He’s fine, bit singed, nothing much. Now, if you _don’t_ want to do things this way,” Heyman said slowly, looking upward as he seemed to think about it. “I could just send you back his arm and you could use that tattoo to synthesize me the Austinion? I mean, if you wanna do it that way.”

Griffon bared her teeth. “If you touch him--”

“Hey, hey!” He slammed his hand on his desk. “I’m the one holding the fucking pocket aces here! Get your shit together. I’ll contact you later for the rendezvous. If Mogar or Iron Man show up, you’ll be getting your kid back in pieces. Okay? Okay, great.” He waved briskly. “Later.”

The feed went dead, leaving them in a long, tense silence.

* * *

 

There wasn't much time. Geoff went to contact JJ to get a trace going on the video call. Griffon grabbed her toolkit and returned to the fab lab.

The lab was full of equipment, a home suite better equipped than most of its R&D competitors. It was the counter to Gavin's lab; his design suite could create the appearance of any material, could simulate any conditions for virtual testing, would turn his blue light sketches into something viable. It was her lab, directly below it, that brought those ideas and concepts to light. It was her domain, where she took their plans and built them.

There was a tattoo machine nestled between the centrifuge and the drinks fridge. It was pristine, gleaming from how well-kept it was. It had run quiet as Gavin had aggressively bevved himself, words slurring as he talked about the tattoo design with her, how it'd pass easily for something innocuous even as the QR code would be painted right there on his skin.

It hurt, because tattoos always hurt in that exquisite way you didn't get from anything else in the world. He'd tried to rub at it after, whinging, and Griffon had laughed, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles, holding him still as the sensation mellowed.

"S'like... company brand, innit?" he'd said.

She had nodded to the machine. "I can put the Ramsey Enterprises brand on you, sweetie. Right on your ass."

He'd laughed, shaking his head. "Not this time, yeah? I mean, I'm like... bloody long-term project, aren't I?"

She had never dared articulate it that way before, but the idea rang so oddly true to her. She’d leaned down and kissed his forehead before putting a bandage on him.

It had been a little ridiculous, she knew, but it had been _theirs_ and her blood boiled to hear Heyman mock it.

Griffon Ramsey was a vengeful woman. So she worked quickly with the equipment in the fab lab, that would be going with her to the rendezvous. She only had one shot at this and she was going to take it with all of the precision of a sniper.

The work took time, but with the ticking clock working against her, it flew by. Soon, she was disconnecting parts from the synthesizer and putting them in a suitcase that was handcuffed to her wrist in turn.

There was only one more piece of preparation at that point, and she took care of it quickly, furtively, and hoped she wasn’t signing her own death warrant.

It was Michael who came and told her, “They called. We have the location.” He looked her over, eyes lingering on the suitcase. “Griffon, I--”

“Later,” she told him. “I’m going alone. I’m taking the truck. You and Geoff, both of you need to be ready to move.”

“You’re really doing this?”

Griffon gave him a tight grin and, as she passed him in the doorway, put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “I’ll get him back.” If it was literally the last thing she did, she was going to get him back.

* * *

 

A black helicopter was in the middle of fucking nowhere on the 304, parked just off the road where everyone could see it. If the road wasn’t so deserted, it would have been an interesting sight. As it was, Griffon was alone as she pulled over and and climbed out of the truck. The suitcase was in hand, the metal handle hot under her grip.

Demarais, Heyman’s apparent second in command, was waiting with a team of glowy-eyed bastards. “Mrs. Ramsey, thank you for making this easy.”

She showed her teeth in an expression that was decidedly not a smile. “Oh, of course.”

He nodded to one of his fellows and the woman stepped forward to wave a wand over Griffon’s body, looking for transmitters on her person. “We’ll have to blindfold and earplug you for the next stage of the journey.”

Her grip on the suitcase tightened. “Right.”

Demarais looked between her and one of the other agents, nervy. “So uh, we’ll just…” He nudged the man next to him, clearing his throat pointedly.

Not the most professional or threatening of terrorist outfits, but they didn’t need to be with the bang they were packing.

Griffon submitted to having her vision and hearing blocked. The hand that took her elbow was warm but firm as she was lead to the helicopter. There was no sound but the muffled whirring of the rotors, more vibration than noise. She felt it when they lifted off and considered trying to determine which direction they were going in, but in seconds she lost track of their orientation.

Griffon sighed, leaning back in her seat with the suitcase secure on her lap. There was no reason not to relax for the trip, and doing so made her imagine Demarais watching her nervously.

The minutes slipped away until she could no longer tell if they’d been flying for twenty minutes or an hour. Then, they flew further.

The helicopter touched down somewhere, and Griffon’s spine straightened. They’d arrived. The plan was in motion. Gavin was nearby.

The blindfold and earplugs were removed. Demarais gave her a tight smile, the sort that made her think he hadn’t always been such a bad egg.

But he’d pinned Gavin down and had helped carry him away from the house so that didn’t count for much anymore.

They’d landed somewhere remote. All around them were wide open plains, flat in a way that made her think of Kansas or Arizona. There was nothing to greet her but horizon and a single building. It was a glass and metal dome breaking out of the ground like a shell peeking out of the sand. From above with the sun shining on it, it’d look like a jewel. It was a lot more sophisticated than she’d been expecting from the Extremis group, but given JJ’s report on just how wealthy Heyman was, it sort of made sense.

Holding the suitcase close, she was led into the facility. It was beautiful; a security checkpoint, then open floor plan with workstations and equipment, all gleaming and perfect. There were none of the lab coat-garbed researchers that such a facility was clamoring for, only more Extremis agents milling around, not touching the labs.

There was an open area in the center, a raised dais. On it stood Heyman, in a different but equally fancy suit and tie. As she approached, he smiled, full-on smug snake, and started to clap.

“Mrs. Ramsey! Nice to see you again. Welcome to Extremis Headquarters. Not quite as expansive as your labs but, well, I’m sure we’ll make it work.”

She didn’t pay any attention to him. Her eyes were focused on the metal chair next to him. Sitting in it, head lolled and eyes unfocused, was Gavin. He looked pale, like his skin was stretched too-tightly over his bones. He had a red, angry mark running down one arm, but seemed oblivious to it. The looseness of his body made it clear some kind of drugs were involved.

Griffon flushed hot and angry under her collar, then fought to keep that flare in check. “What’s the game here, Heyman?”

“First,” Heyman said, launching right into the plan like he’d been prepared for the question. “You’ve seen the kid, he’s fine, bit woozy but whatever, that’ll wear off. You’re gonna give us that suitcase-- I assume it’s got the QR thing in it?” He waited for her nod. “Great. I’ve got people who’ll hook that up. We’ll test it, obviously.” Here, he tapped Gavin’s arm; the sleeve of his shirt had been torn away so the tattoo there was accessible. Gavin winced and tried to lean away only to be caught on the binds that held him to the chair. “And that’ll be that! Easy, right?”

Griffon narrowed her eyes at him.

“Well, think about it, Ramsey,” Heyman went on. “The longer I have you two here, the more likely someone is gonna show up to rain on the fucking parade and believe me, I am fucking _done_ with that bullshit.” He waved a hand and some agents moved forward. “Go on, then.”

Griffon sighed. Turning, she set the suitcase down on one of the many vacant lab set-ups. Hands freed, she spun the tiny metal dials of the cuffs until the right number lined up and they clicked open. As Extremis agents hovered and watched, she put in a different code into the suitcase itself.

It opened, revealing the equipment she’d liberated from her own synthesis machine, the scanner and code decrypter. “Your people know how to handle this?”

“Don’t worry about that. Demarais, go make sure they integrate it right.”

That left them in a lull. Heyman’s plan was in motion; Griffon’s was as well. She turned to the dais again, trying to watch both Heyman and Gavin.

The silence was tense until Griffon said, “All you wanted was to stabilize the Extremis compound. Why the hell didn’t you just _ask_ for help?”

Heyman snorted. “Let me count the ways that wouldn’t have worked. One, I spent fucking years trying to get _anyone_ in the business to take on the project. No dice. Two, I only found out about your Austinion through some pretty major criminal activities. Not a good start to our happy friendly science partnership. Three,” He pointed to Gavin’s arm. “You guys were so fucking secretive about the Austinion, you _wiped every trace of it_ from your labs and made it so the two of you were literally the only people who knew how to make it.” He rolled his eyes heavily. “Oh my god, I mean-- Ramsey Enterprises has always been the diva of the tech and R &D world but that’s a bit fucking much, even for you!”

Griffon’s hand fisted tightly and she fought to control her breathing.

Gavin, as though speaking through a mouth full of marbles, said, “ _You’re_ a diva.”

Heyman stared at him, then laughed. “Hey, he’s awake! Next time, smaller dose. You’d think someone so well known for their debauchery and partying would be less of a lightweight.”

“Next time,” Griffon said, low and intent.

Heyman met her eyes, the fire in them growing for a moment, then smiled like he was some harmless put-upon businessman. “Okay, see, here is point four.” He stepped closer to her, and it was like seeing a volcano in the shape of a man, the lines of his face glowing and the sheer heat he was putting off intensifying. “I gave my fucking life and fortune to this fucking project and I’m the only one left from the original team. Therefore, _it’s mine_!” He sneered, fire in his mouth, smoke curling around his lips. “And I’m not fucking sharing it with anyone.”

He spun on his heel and walked back to Gavin. Gavin made a pained noise and tried to lean away from him. “So here is how it’s gonna work, Ramsey. We’re going to make Extremis work. We’re going to make a fucking _killing_ off of it and show every dumb fuck who refused to back us just how much they fucked up. And!” He patted Gavin’s shoulder, making the boy yelp and fight to get away. “To make sure you at Ramsey Enterprises don’t get any bright ideas, we’ll be keeping your pet designer as insurance.”

Demarais held up his hand, flashing an okay sign. “We’re good, sir!”

“Take the kid, test it, hurry up.” Heyman ordered, backing away as Gavin was lifted, chair and all, by one Extremis agent, and carried easily away to the synthesizer.

“I’m going to burn you alive,” Griffon said gravely.

“What, are you new to the program?” Heyman laughed. “I’m already burning, Ramsey.” He watched as Gavin was hoisted up, still bound to the chair, until the scanner could flash over the skin of his arm.

The device beeped once, and a light flashed green.

Then, nothing seemed to happen.

Heyman let it go for about five seconds before snapping, “What the fuck, Demarais?”

Demarais started like a spooked rabbit and ran around the machine, checking the hook-ups. “Hold on, I’ve got… I’ll just check the thing, hang on.”

“Did you-- did we check beforehand that that was a working synthesizer? Someone did that, right?” Heyman asked, frustration clear.

“Yes, Mr. Heyman, it was working fine before. And… it’s getting power, it’s running, it’s just… not making anything, sir.” He shrugged expansively, clueless.

Griffon watched the machine flash its green light helpfully. “It’s working fine.”

Slowly, face contorting into something even more hellish as he did, Heyman turned to her. “What did you fucking do?”

“Deleted the Austinion synthesis process. Traded it with a GPS activation program. Real simple.” She stepped forward, right up to the dais. “Give me Gavin right now and no one else will get hurt.”

“Oh, yeah, _no_.” Heyman lifted his hand, his suit turning to ash as the fire under his skin burst forth, growing until it leapt at her.

She heard Gavin scream her name. She hated to scare him more while he was hurt and disoriented, but there was no time to say anything before the fire washed over her.

She put her arm up to shield against it and marveled at how _strange_ it felt, to be so drenched in heat and yet comfortable. It burned her clothes, but other than that, she only felt the way her body warmed to match the onslaught. It felt… natural, like it was already a part of her, like the spark and power inside manifested.

She got the pleasure of seeing the look of outraged shock on Heyman’s face as she walked through the flames, grinning, unharmed.

“Oh that is fucking _bullshit_ ,” Heyman said before throwing a fist at Griffon’s face.

She dodged, kicked in return, and the fight instantly turned into trading blows in the wake of the fire. It was hot around them, no doubt, but the only thing that bothered either of them was basic bareknuckle brawling.

Griffon knocked Heyman down before she was grabbed from behind. The hold was weak, and she spun out of it easily. Apparently these chucklefucks weren’t aware she was Geoff’s sparring partner.

She vaulted off the dais before springing over one of the lab stations. There was something big and impressive on it, some kind of a machine. She didn’t care what it was, only that it was easy to throw at Demarais’ face. “Gavin! Are you okay?”

Gavin rocked his chair hard enough he toppled over. “Bollocks! Griffon!”

She gritted her teeth; she couldn’t go to him. She was radiating heat and would only hurt him. Temporarily ignoring his whimpers, she threw herself like a wrecking ball into anyone who came near her. Each one of them attacked with care and reluctance, backing away as soon as they began to burn too hot.

She didn’t have that problem. She was burning and she was fine, fire no more of a threat than rain thanks to the compound coursing through her, changing her. The Austinion-Extremis amalgamation worked like a dream and she felt like the fucking Terminator as she moved.

Eventually, another problem arose. Sure, she was fucking immune to anything the Extremis agents threw at her and the heat of the room was nothing to her with no signs of overheating or explosion in her path. But the room _was_ growing hotter, and to such a degree that the air seemed to shimmer everywhere she looked.

Gavin was not so resilient, cuffed to his chair and laying on his side. With his eyes tightly shut, he pressed his cheek against the tile floor. Sweat flattened his hair to his head, beads of it running down his nose and chin.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t so much as move closer to him without making it worse.

Luckily, overhead, rain started to pelt against the glass ceiling.

As much as she’d deny it later, as much as she didn’t want to admit it to anyone, she relaxed at the sound of thunder in the distance, throwing her all into breaking the jaws of every fiery person she saw.

In moments, the glass dome burst inward and Michael fell in, landing in the midst of the ongoing fight. He looked around, slung his hammer around like a boomerang, and frantically searched the room. “ _GAVIN_?!”

“Michael, help!”

Michael broke into a run, tucked low, and made his way to Gavin. “ _Fuck_ , it’s hot. I got you, hold on.” He took the chains connecting Gavin to the chair in his hands and twisted them until they broke before helping him up. Gavin made a soft sound, wrapping his arms around Michael with more than a little desperation in the way his hands grasped at Michael. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His jacket slid off his shoulders and went around Gavin’s body instead. “Griffon?”

She delivered a roundhouse kick that sent Demarais into the wall with a tremendous crunch of concrete and metal before shouting, “Get him out of here, now!”

It was all the direction Michael needed. He bundled Gavin tight to him, threw his hammer once more to knock someone away from them, then leapt into the air, and rose up higher and higher, out of the dome.

A cold knot that had settled in her gut released, and from it came more fire.

Fashionably late as ever, Geoff arrived, landing on top of one of the Extremis agents with the full force of gravity and the weight of the Iron Man suit. “Griffon, you-- you’re sort of…”

She spun to grin at him. “Am I still the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, Geoffrey?”

His stunned laugh was loud, made tinny by the suit’s speakers. “Fucking christ. Are you okay? Are you going to go boom?”

“I’m fine. Now, help me thin this crowd.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Geoff said, turning and firing everything he had.

If this was what it felt like to do what Geoff did, what Michael did, it was _amazing_. There was a righteous fury behind every move she made, and she felt graceful, like a well-cared for machine. It was fire and motion together with the knowledge she could move as precisely as she needed and her body wouldn’t fail her in the process.

It didn’t take much longer for the two of them to put down Heyman’s people, whether they just ran too hot and burned themselves out or whether they slumped to the ground, skin glowing but eyes shut in unconsciousness.

Soon, the only man standing was Joel Heyman himself. Standing was a generous descriptor; he leaned heavily on one of the chairs, watching her with dark, envious eyes.

When he spoke, it was devoid of his usual bluster. It was quiet and drained. It sounded like a white flag. “You did it. Holy shit, you did it…” He shook his head, staring at her. “That’s all I wanted, what you have.”

Most of her clothes were burned off, making it easy to look down at herself and see the glow under her skin even as her minor injuries put themselves back together. Looking back at him she said, “You could have asked. Whatever you had to tell yourself to justify the shit you did, you were wrong. We would have helped you.”

“Extremis was _mine_!” His fist slammed into a table, warping and melting the metal around his skin. “I was the only one who believed in it! You don’t fucking _understand_ what it’s like to have the world look at something like this and say no.”

Her lips curled back in a sneer. “So for your pride and joy, you kidnapped mine and tortured him, and now you’re fucking surprised by this?” She took a deep breath, desert-hot in her mouth and lungs. “You really thought it wouldn’t end this way?”

Heyman’s face changed, frowning in confusion, and maybe he was that far gone. Maybe he didn’t understand what the hell he was doing and what it meant.

He’d learn, Griffon decided. She already knew how. Death would be satisfying in the short term but, oh, she had a much better idea for him.

Behind her, Geoff said, “BYTE’ll be here soon.”

“Good,” she said and reached her hands high above her head, stretching long like a cat. “I’m done here anyway.”


	8. the hum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: character dealing with anxiety, xenobiology

The first thing Gavin saw the next time he opened his eyes was a beard. It was a familiar beard, full and orangey-red-brown, well kept, well loved. It'd been a part of his life since moving to America and becoming close to the Ramseys and their circle of friends.

The sight of it let him relax; he knew where he was now. He was at Jack's place, which, like the Ramsey ranch house, was just outside of Austin but off on the opposite side of the city. Dr. Pattillo, part time guest of BYTE, part-time multidisciplinary doctor, was an old friend of the family and of Gavin's.

He was also the Hulk, but that was neither here nor there.

"He's _incredibly_ lucky. Mostly first degree with some partial thickness burns. This will fix him up pretty quick."

"When do I change his bandage?" Michael asked, and Gavin's head turned toward his voice.

"Check on it in a few hours," Jack said, voice still that warm, sonorous thing, like a blanket or something. Gavin hummed, pleased.

"Holy shit... Gav? Gavin." Gavin's eyes fluttered shut as a hand ran through his hair. He felt squeaky clean, his hair soft as it was touched. Someone must has cleaned him up because the last thing he remembered with the _heat_ of that dome, the way it stole the air from his lungs and drenched him in his own sweat. Now, he was... floaty. Like a cloud, or the white stuff from those dogwood trees. "How are you feeling?"

Gavin blinked slowly, trying to really consider the question. The answer wasn't actually obvious right away; he had to take stock of his body and mind. "Uhm... Tired? Jus'..." He tried to focus on the face closest to him, and smiled up at Michael. "Hi, Michael."

Michael smiled back, pinched but genuine. "Hey, Gavin."

"Is everyone okay?"

Michael nodded. "Gruchy's out of surgery, he's fine. Griffon and Geoff are with BYTE now, taking care of the Extremis project."

 _Griffon_. Gavin’s breath caught in his chest so fast, he choked on it. Even through the haze of whatever was in his system, his mind supplied the fiery memories of what happened to 78.5 per cent of the people who took Extremis. “Griffon, what happened, is she--”

“Fine, she’s fine.” Michael’s hand card through his hair, nails dragging over his scalp. “She can probably explain better later... Hey, why don't you go back to sleep for a while?"

"No." He suddenly, virulently _didn't_ want to shut his eyes again. He shook his head hard. 78.5 fucking per cent and Heyman and headquarters and Dan in surgery-- it was all too much. "No, no, Michael, I don't want to sleep anymore, please."

"Okay, okay, shuush, babe, I get it," Michael said, taking Gavin's hand and holding it tight, resting Gavin's knuckles against his mouth. "Jack, is there a way to... help him?"

Jack, while Gavin had been distracted by Michael's existence, he spread a cool gel over Gavin's arm, centered on the spots that had been burned. It was chemically cold, but soothing, seeping deep into his skin. Jack carefully taped down a bandage over the red marks, fingers gentle. "I'll see what I can do. I might have a few things to try, get whatever is in his system flushed out of him." He lifted his head, meeting Gavin's gaze. "Sleep would be the best thing for you though."

"I..." He _did_ feel so weary, it'd be so simple to just shut his eyes if not for the threat of metal and fire behind his lids.

Michael said, "Hang on," climbing off the bed, where he'd been sitting next to Gavin. He took off his boots and chainmail shirt, setting them aside before climbing back up. He laid out on his side next to Gavin. "Come here."

Gavin didn’t hesitate and shimmied over closer so he could lay his head on Michael's arm. Whatever strange fear he had of the inside of his eyelids, Michael being pressed against him helped banish it, at least for now. "Mm."

Jack laughed softly. "I wish cameras worked better around you, Michael. That's really precious. I'll get the lights then?"

"Thanks," Michael murmured, tucked his chin over Gavin's hair.

This close, Michael was comfortingly warm, smelling like the air after a storm had passed, mineral and sweet and weirdly green. Gavin inhaled deeply, remembered the feeling of sitting in the eye of a storm and being utterly safe, and only then let himself sleep again.

* * *

 

Gavin was sitting in Jack’s living room, dressed in soft green scrubs. There was an IV feeding into his arm and his bandages had just been changed. The drugs he’d been given at the Extremis facility were mostly out of his system, thankfully. That was probably the only reason he was conscious. That said, there was a tiredness that Gavin could not shake, more emotional than physical. He felt almost as though there was nothing there to prop him up, that the ordeal with Heyman had wrung him out, and only Michael’s hand pressed against the small of his back kept him upright.

That wasn’t important though. What was important was that somehow, when Gavin wasn’t looking, Jack had become Michael’s general practitioner.

“Well, I needed someone who could explain… things to me.” Michael waved a hand expansively. “You know, things you gotta know when you’re stranded on an alien world.”

Jack smiled fondly. “And to run tests.”

“ _Fuck_ , so many fucking tests.” Michael laughed. “Broke a lot of needles.”

Jack, as fastidious as ever, was writing out a care regime in longhand for Gavin. Because he needed to take his fun where he could get it at times like these, Gavin asked, "Anything I need to be aware of? No alcohol, no shagging, anything like that?"

"Have you looked at your arm?" Michael asked incredulously.

Gavin pulled on a great pout. "Are you no longer attracted to me, is that it? Was the integrity of my right arm vital in you wanting to shag me?"

" _Please_ shut up," Michael said, the stern tone of his words ruined by the laughter that was bubbling in him.

Jack tore the paper from his notebook and handed it to Michael. "Sex is fine if you are _careful_. Don't over-exert yourself though. Take those antibiotics and keep applying the gel twice daily, it'll speed your recovery."

"Thanks, Jack," Gavin chirped.

"Of course. You should try coming by when there isn't an emergency." He flipped his notepad closed. "You can take him home, Michael, if you-- Oh." The doorbell rang, and Jack frowned. "I'm guessing that's for you..." He stood and went to the entryway.

Griffon walked in. "Jack, are they-- God, there they are." She sounded frazzled, and there was something wild about her. It wasn't just the fluffed ball her hair had become, like hair baked too long under a hair dryer, but the shifted color of her eyes (a honey-gold, now) and how she was clearly in borrowed clothes, her own having burned away.

She crossed the room quickly. "Gavin, oh my god, Gav," she breathed before wrapping her arms around him, fast and desperate. Gavin squeaked in surprise before remembering that she had not had the chance to pass out for almost two days like he had; she'd-- she'd become a woman on fire to save him, and then didn't get to see him until now.

She hugged him tight, and he let her for a moment before the pain began to sting too keenly. "Ow, Griffon, m'arm, careful."

"Shit, sweetie, I'm sorry," she said, letting go quickly. Her hands hung, lingering in the space between them as she vacillated between wanting to touch and seeing the state Gavin was in. He reached out with his good arm and took her hand in his, smiling.

"I'm okay, just a little sore. Jack's put some space-age healing stuff on me, I'll be right as rain soon." He squeezed her hand. "Enough about me, what about _you_ , are you..." A sudden flood of ice hit his veins as he thought about the Extremis bombers, their bodies _gone_ in the wake of their super-hot explosions.

"Oh, sweetie, no. No, I'm fine." She gestured to her body. "You're looking at the first Austinion-Extremis compound application."

Griffon was a sodding superhero now, Gavin realized, his chest swelling. She'd become one to stop Heyman, to save him. He'd not seen much from where he'd been stuck on the damn floor of the facility gasping for air, but she had faced a plume of fire like bloody dragon's breath and come out unscathed.

She'd taken the fucking Extremis and changed herself for him.

Gavin shut his eyes tightly and bowed his head forward, pressing her hand against his face. His eyes stung, and there may have been a few errant tears when she wrapped her arms around his neck, scratching her nails through the short hair at his nape. So close, he couldn't help but notice that she didn't smell like sawdust and motor oil anymore, but like hot metal, so potent it almost stung his nose.

"I don't want to ruin the moment," Jack said softly, "but, Griffon, you should really let me take a look at you."

She lifted her head from where it lay against Gavin's hair. "I was just with BYTE, one of their medics--"

Jack winced. "Okay, you really need to let me run some tests. Nothing against BYTE, but..."

She sighed, getting the picture that Jack was too polite to paint for them. "Right." Griffon looked to Michael. "Can you take him home?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah."

“But,” Gavin started, not wanting to say goodbye already.

"In an actual car, not--"

"I am not gonna fly him around when he's medicated and injured," Michael said, mouth twisting.

The idea had never crossed Gavin's mind before and derailed him. "Can you drive?"

Michael gave him a hopelessly fond look that also made it clear that Gavin was Michael's _favorite_ idiot. "Yes, I can drive, Gavin."

"Really?"

"I'll prove it. Come on." He stood and moved to Gavin, who put a hand on his chest wardingly.

"If you can drive, I can walk."

Michael smiled, and it should have been annoying but he was using his dimples, the lovely little dips in his freckled cheeks, and it melted Gavin every damn time. "Okay.” He let Gavin stand under his own strength, only kept a firm arm around his waist. “Let's get you home."

He managed to make it to the driveway without having to lean too much on Michael. They borrowed one of Jack's cars for the trip home.

Gavin curled up in the passenger seat, eyes shut, and listened to Michael as he grumbled at the other drivers, occasionally snapping something really poisonous at someone who cut him off or drove too slow. Gavin was peripherally aware that Michael could likely place his hands on the roof and lift the entire car into the air without trouble.

The lull of the drive was nice, though. After what happened, the closeness to Michael without any distractions came along with a feeling of safety that Gavin sorely needed.

Halfway to the house, Michael started to fill him in on what he'd missed, about Joel Heyman being taken into BYTE's custody, but Gavin wasn't ready to hear about it yet and interrupted him. "So, you've not done your thing."

Michael kept his eyes on the road. He was a surprisingly cautious driver. Gavin wondered if that was just the way he was or if his presence in the car was a factor. "My thing, what's my thing?"

"The... thing where you get all morose and sad because you failed to live up to your own fucking _absurd_ standards of godhood or heroism or whatever."

Michael nodded. "The thing where I fucked up and want to beg your forgiveness for failing you again even though you're just going to shrug it off and tell me to do better next time."

Gavin snapped his fingers and pointed at Michael. "That's the one."

"I'm skipping it."

"You're skipping it?"

"Yeah." They rolled to a stop at a red light and Michael turned to look at Gavin finally. He could see behind Michael's eyes that it wasn't that simple, that having not gotten to Gavin sooner was like a knife in Michael's gut, slowly twisting in a cruel circle right where he was tender and vulnerable.

"I'm fine," Gavin told him.

"I know."

"Then why do you--"

"I just do," Michael said, much softer, just above a whisper.

Gavin got it. There was a chance he was the only person on the planet who could understand it. Geoff and Griffon both knew the main details of Michael's life before earth and how he ended up exiled, but Gavin doubtlessly knew the most of it. He knew there was something in Michael that made him have to be so hard on himself. Something called Mogar, perhaps.

Gavin shut his eyes again and kept them shut for the rest of the drive, thinking about Griffon and the untested, potentially-fatal compound she’d taken to be able to save him, about Ramsey Enterprises and about duty.

* * *

 

It was strange to walk into the ranch house while it was empty. The place recognized him and admitted them without fuss, but the lights were all off and there was a quiet to Gavin’s home he’d never heard before. It took a while before he could place what was missing; the electric hum that came from the two labs.

It was home, but it wasn’t. It gave Gavin an itch in the back of his mind, something that just _bothered_ him. This was were he was supposed to be, where he lived and worked, but he couldn’t help pressing harder into Michael’s side as they made their way upstairs.

Michael noticed, the observant bugger. “Gav?”

Biting his lip hard, Gavin tried to come up with a way to explain the weird discomfort in him, how part of him wished they’d stayed at Jack’s place longer. The words all sounded feeble and useless in his head, so he just pressed forward and pressed his mouth to Michael, hoping he’d _get it._

Michael let out a soft noise, a sharp inhale against Gavin’s mouth, but leaned in as well. It was a sweet, chaste press at first, Michael’s hand coming up to curl around Gavin’s neck as he brushed his lips against Gavin’s, against the apple of Gavin’s cheek, back to nip at the lobe of his ear before kissing the soft skin under his jaw. Gavin wrapped his good arm around Michael’s shoulders, letting his head fall back to give Michael room to map the sensitive spots, ticklish against the week of beard Gavin had accumulated.

He swayed into Michael and felt one hand squeeze his hip. “Gavin,” Michael said, a questioning twist to his name.

Gavin kissed Michael again, biting his lip and pulling hard for a second before releasing it and tracing it with his tongue.

“ _Gavin_ ,” Michael said, drawing away. “Gav, you…”

“I’ve just been almost killed by a fire-breathing megalomaniac,” Gavin reminded him.

“Your arm, though.” Gavin couldn’t help but grin at Michael, how he was once again trying to do the right thing even as Gavin could hear his resolve failing. He’d worked hard to corrupt Michael a little, making him bend to his own desires and stop acting like he didn’t have any. The stoic godling act got old fast, especially when Gavin knew what lay beneath it like a tinderbox waiting for one stray spark.

Gavin smiled, bumping his nose against Michael’s. “You’ll be careful with me, won’t you, love?”

Michael caved, because he always caved when Gavin asked nicely. Gavin had the grace to not gloat about it, instead using his good hand to push Michael’s jacket off his shoulders. Michael took over from there, stripping off his clothes quickly before his hands hovered over Gavin’s, hesitant.

“You won’t hurt me,” Gavin reminded him softly.

With a needy sound, Michael ran his hands up under Gavin’s scrub shirt, the pads of his fingers pressing and dragging against the skin, pushing into where Gavin was soft rather than gangly and lean. The shirt came off slowly, one arm at a time before Michael kissed his shoulder. “Good?”

“Could be better.” Gavin caught the hem of his pants with his toes, yanking them down his hips. Michael was there to help too-- or at least until his hands were cupped around Gavin’s ass. He lingered there, squeezing until Gavin gasped, hitching against him. “Michael, god.”

“Bed. Let’s get you laying down.”

Gavin’s head spun a little as he sat on the bed, legs tingly. Jack had said he needed to take it easy, and he would, but he was starved for something sweet like this. He smiled, tracing the curved pelvic bone of Michael’s hip, grin widening as he followed it to where Michael’s lavender wiggler was stretching out of the sheath. “Oh, hello there, lovely.” He put his hand against the small of Michael’s back, drawing him in so he could lean his head on his belly. Unlike humans, Michael lacked hair down here. Instead, the peach fuzz that covered his whole body got thicker and more lush, so much that Gavin nosed against his skin, happy to feel that texture.

There was more to this than Michael being a fuzzy ball of lightning and unusual biology. Gavin leaned down, bracing himself on Michael’s hip until he could kiss the slick bulge. Michael cursed quietly, pushing his fingers through Gavin’s hair as Gavin sucked in the tip, letting it rub against the curl of his tongue.

“Fuck, Gavin…” Michael sighed as the rest of him unfurled, slick tendrils joining the fun.

Gavin took his time easing into the mass of slick lavender muscles, delivering sucking kisses and licks while Michael groaned, the hand in his hair grasping tight and releasing, over and over. His hips started to rock into the attention as a few tendrils fought to work into Gavin’s mouth, pulling at his tongue.

It was fucking addictive to go down on Michael like this, burying his face against his bulges until all he could taste was the faint sweetness of the slick that was rubbed over his chin and pulsed into his mouth.

Eventually, he lifted his head again, feeling oddly accomplished to see the full expanse of Michael out of his sheath, shining wet and ready for anything. He kissed the plane of Michael’s stomach again, laughing at the translucent purple mark his lips left.

“Fucking christ, Gavin, do you know how you _look_?” Michael cupped his face, dragging his thumbs over Gavin’s skin, wiping away the excess slick.

“Good enough to fuck, I hope?” He looked up at Michael’s flushed face, plainly pleased with his work.

“Are you sure?”

Gavin nodded and scooted back onto the bed. It quickly became hard to maneuver and keep his injured arm safe. Michael climbed onto the bed with him to help, murmuring, “Here, on your side,” as he tipped Gavin over onto his good arm. They grabbed pillows, pulling them into place so Gavin ended up mostly on his front, arm laid over a pillow he was curled around. “Just relax, I’ve got this.”

Gavin nodded, laying his head down, tracing his lips with his tongue.

Michael arranged them so his hips cradled Gavin’s ass, and Gavin let out a choked noise as he felt the slick glide of Michael’s bulges rubbing against him, hot and wet and suddenly everywhere. A thinner tendril pushed into him, pulling at the ring of muscle as Michael’s palm ran up and down his side. “It’s okay, relax, just relax,” he whispered. At the same time, the other tendrils slid against his perineum and the main tentacle curled loosely around his balls.

Gavin pressed his face into the pillow, shivering under the onslaught of all that sensation. It felt so exquisitely good it was hard to stand. He moaned as he was stretched and slicked up. It took a while, Michael going so slow Gavin wanted to reach back and smack him. His good arm was pinned though, and all he could do was spread his legs wider and tell Michael, “Come on, hurry up, please.”

“Easy, easy.” Michael kissed the curve of Gavin’s spine as he opened Gavin up further. “I’ve got you.”

“ _Michael_ , fuck, fuck me already, love, come on,” Gavin babbled. He was cut off into a long, low groan as Michael’s tentacle worked into him. It was wider closer to the base, and Gavin was stretched further, gasping sharply as it worked deeper and deeper in, opening him around it. “Ooh, oh _god_.”

“That’s it, babe,” MIchael managed, grunting as he canted his hips up against Gavin. “Just like that.”

There was no haste to it, just a long, slow fuck with Michael controlling the pace. There was nothing to do for Gavin but take what was dished out, conscious of his injuries every time his fist clenched in the pillow, cording his muscles and reminding him of the bandages strapped to him. It was so difficult to lay still when he could feel Michael inside him, sliding and nudging around, filling him so much it was hard to breathe through the sensation, so startling every time.

It was made all the worse (or better, really) when Michael just pressed full against Gavin’s ass and let his tentacle flex and move, doing all the work with tendrils rubbing against Gavin while Michael petted his back, soothing him and murmuring nonsense. Gavin came like that, his entire body shaking, everything tight and perfect for a long moment before he slumped down, spent and fucked out.

Michael nearly purred, grasping Gavin’s hips and holding him in place as he fucked him faster, hips pistoning until he spilled slick everywhere, creating one hell of a mess of the inside of Gavin’s thighs and the sheets. Gavin shivered, toes curling hard, like an aftershock. “Bloody fuckin’ hell…”

Michael chuckled, low and sexy, kissing Gavin’s shoulder blade. “You okay? How are you?”

“Mm, sore,” Gavin admitted, lifting his head to look at Michael. “Good sore. Messy though.”

“Well, you knew that’d happen.” He kissed Gavin’s spine, working his way down as he slipped out of Gavin and off the bed. “I’ll get a towel.”

Gavin hummed, happy to let him do it. Laying there, his body was buzzing with a strange dissonance, the faint pain and the rush of orgasm almost making him dizzy. Still, getting done just right was worth it.

He could feel himself growing drowsy already and cast his gaze around the room. It was almost as much of a mess as he was. Michael had been staying there for his visit, and was atrociously bad at picking up after himself. His shirts were laid out over Gavin’s desk; his dirty clothes were on the floor of the closet, having been tossed at the basket only to miss; his knit caps were on Gavin’s alarm because Michael hated the light of the display; his bag was hanging off the balcony door, ready for him when he decided it was time to leave again.

Gavin’s eyes caught on the bag, staring at it angrily. Michael had already been in Austin for almost two weeks. That was the longest span yet and Gavin couldn’t imagine it lasting much longer. That his room reached such a state with Michael’s things mixing with his was new and lovely, but not fated to last.

He was going to leave and Gavin was going to be here in this house, in this room with no sign of life because Gavin always prefered living in the lab to spending his time in his room alone.

There was a prickle over his skin, a nauseating rush of adrenaline as he pawed at his neck and found it bare. “Michael? Michael!”

“What, what?” Michael returned with a damp towel and ran it over Gavin’s skin, wiping away the mess. Gavin turned over and Michael immediately tried to stop him. “Easy!”

“Where’s the necklace?” Gavin asked, wincing as he noticed his voice jumping up an octave. “They tried to crush it when they took me, it should be downstairs.”

Michael frowned. “I have it, it’s fine. Hang on…” He retreated to where his jeans had been pushed off and abandoned, rooting around in one of the pockets until he retrieved the length of chain and the Bifrost shard at the end.

Gavin tried to reach for it, only to use his bad arm. The skin pulled and stung, and he gasped, curling it back against his chest. “Fucking bolloxing fuck…”

“Jesus, Gav.” Michael sat next to him and rested his hand over Gavin’s arm with a faint touch. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I have it back?” The shake in his voice was absolutely mortifying, but his brain kept supplying him with thoughts of Michael leaving and taking the necklace with him, on purpose or by accident, and having nothing to remember him by.

Fuck intangible things, leave them for the blue light suite and simulations; he wanted something to hold onto.

Michael slipped the chain back around Gavin’s neck and let Gavin catch one of his hands, holding him close as he breathed through the weird panicky feeling that seized him. “Hey… Gavin, talk to me, babe, you’re shaking.”

Gavin shook his head. “Stay here?” he asked, desperate and hideously greedy.

“Of course. Come on, lay down.” He was coaxed back down onto the bed, and Gavin could have laughed at how Michael didn’t understand what he was asking. That was fine, though. They had this. Gavin had Michael under his arm and a bone-deep soreness that told of being used well. It’d linger for a while, maybe renewed a few times before Michael finally left.

Gavin lay his head against Michael’s chest, shutting his eyes, an act of faith against the coming day.

* * *

 

The next day, the house was full again.

Geoff arrived home first, having finished with BYTE and telling Sorola all the ways he could fuck himself, or whatever it was that kept him away for so long. He was home in time to make breakfast, dipping wide slices of brioche into egg and honey and vanilla before frying them.

“Heyman’s in BYTE’s clutches for the time being. They’re the only people with the facilities to keep that fucker under glass without said glass melting,” he explained, flipping French toast with a spatula so it sizzled, filling the kitchen with the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon.

“We could fix that,” Gavin said. He dragged a notebook over to where he was sitting, and reached for a pen. “We just need a way to regulate his body temperature, like a-- _shit_.” He dropped the pen and grabbed his arm, whimpering at the hurt.

“Easy there, Gavin,” Geoff said, sighing. “Save the acts of genius for when you can write them down again.”

“Yeah…” Gavin ducked his head, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the stinging. As he did, Michael accepted a plate of food and started to cut the toast down into bite-size pieces. He took both slices apart like that before sliding the plate over to Gavin. Gavin felt his face flush, both touched and annoyed such a thing was necessary. “Thank you, Michael.”

“Of course,” Michael said. He had his phone on the table next to him, the one with RE’s brand on it that was carefully made to withstand prolonged exposure to him. He was tapping at the interface, and when Gavin stole a glance, he saw the Yelp page for Perth was open.

He looked back down at his plate and tried to eat, but each bite tasted bland and grey on his tongue. More than anything, he needed a distraction from the constant loop in his head, thinking about bloody fucking Australia. It was giving him an irrational hate for the continent and that wasn’t fair to Australia, honestly.

He was left to stew with those thoughts for a while, though, until he got a call from Dan, who needed his things packed up; he was one his way back across the pond.

He arrived in a wheelchair, arm in a sling, accompanied by another soldier-type in dress uniform. They waited by the door as Dan rolled himself up to Gavin. “So, B. It’s been _fun_.”

There was such dryness there that Gavin had to laugh. “Yeah. I’d say we should do this again sometime, but…”

“No kidding.” His eyes lost much of their mirth, lingering heavy on Gavin. “B. Gavin. You’re good, right?”

The idea was ludicrous. How could he be good? He’d been kidnapped and drugged to the gills and burned. He’d watched in terror as Griffon was doused in flames. He’d laid helpless on the ground as the world threatened to cook him. His arm _ached_ and his Michael was going to leave soon and he’d be left behind with nothing but a suffocating sense of duty there was no way he would dare not fulfill, especially not after all Griffon had done--

Gavin smiled, said, “I’m fine, Dan.”

Dan grinned. “Good ol’ B. Sorry I can’t stick around, but I have one hell of a report to give to my superiors back home.”

A goodbye like Dan’s should not have made him happy, and yet he felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t have time to feel guilty: Michael came downstairs, Dan’s duffle over one shoulder.

“You packed my stuff? You really are a superhero,” Dan joked as Michael set his bag down on his lap. Michael silently nodded, and Dan bit his lip, eyes darting to Michael’s face and away again a few times before he said, “Listen. I really took the piss out of you while I was here. Guess I just couldn’t get over B being all domestic and such, yeah?”

“Okay,” Michael said, two syllables entirely without inflection or meaning.

“Bugger me, you don’t make this easy, do you? Look, you saved me instead of Gavin even though you bloody well hate me-- and, ah, not without reason maybe.”

Gavin sucked in a breath, looking at Michael. He’s knew Michael was too late getting to him and that was _fine_ , honestly, but that he was late because he was saving Dan made Gavin’s heart thump faster, that weird dizzy feeling taking him again. Without thinking about it, he reached for Michael’s hand, gratified when Michael linked their fingers together.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Michael said to Dan, eyes hard. “I think you’re an asshole. But if I left you to die, Gav would have been upset.” His lips pressed together into severe line. “And it was the right thing to do and all that shit.”

Dan laughed. “Ah, well, okay. Still. Thanks.” He offered his hand, then dropped it, thinking better of the gesture. “I’m off. See you.”

Gavin smiled. “Try to keep in touch this time, B.”

“But don’t try too hard,” Michael said cattily. Gavin snorted, ducking his head. “And have a good recovery, yeah.”

Gavin waited until Dan left before turning his face into Michael’s shoulder and laughing at what passed for magnanimous for Michael Jones.

* * *

 

And with the night came Griffon Ramsey, released from Jack’s clutches with a clean bill of health.

She walked into the house and immediately went to change into her own clothes before settling into the living room, dropping into the armchair like it was the first chance she’d had to sit in days. “So many fucking needles. Our Pattillo is a sadist.”

“But you’re okay, right? You’re not going to…” Gavin couldn’t turn the horrific images in his mind into words, not when they were connected to Griffon. The idea of it made him shake and want to hide under the bloody table until his breathing leveled back out.

She smiled at him, weary but happy. “I’m fine. The Austinion-Extremis combination did exactly what Heyman was hoping for. My temperature doesn’t skyrocket and I have a lot more control over the process. That’s not to say I may not have problems down the line, but for right now?” She stretched her arms above her head, letting them hang over the back of the chair. “I’m fine, sweetie, I promise you.” She traced his frame with her eyes. “You came out of it worse than I did.”

He wanted to say something reassuring and strong, but the sound caught in his throat and all he could do was nod once. She returned it, eyes bright and shining with so much strength and surety that he wanted to borrow some for himself.

There was that guilt again. He broke her gaze, tangling his fingers in his necklace.

Michael, sitting on the sofa, looked over. “Hey, stupid, come here before you fall down.”

Gavin went; Michael laid down across the sofa, his legs hooked over the arm, and made room for Gavin. There was a gap between him and the back of the seats, and Gavin slid into it, fitting cozily. Michael took his hand and directed his arm to stretch out over his chest, bent just enough to baby his injuries.

Their cinching together went entirely unremarked on. It was a piece of them now, how they folded themselves into each other’s space. It was part of home.

 _He’s still leaving for Australia_ , Gavin’s mind traitorously reminded him.

Geoff made drinks and pigs-in-blankets to snack on. It was bizarre to have such a feeling of family quality time in the wake of what happened. It got even stranger when Geoff opened his laptop and said, “So the insurance people are giving up preliminary information for Nevada.”

Griffon shook her head and knocked back a third of her drink in one big swallow. “Jesus, we have… Nevada to completely rebuild, the New York facility to beef up, a giant mess at headquarters to clean, the design lab to repair… then the Austinion.” She grimaced. “Recreating that is going to be a whole ordeal.”

“What happened to it?” Geoff asked.

“I deleted the synthesis process. It was keyed to Gavin’s tattoo in the decryptor. In its place, I put the GPS activation.” She shrugged as though she had not killed their only venue to create more of their new revolutionary element for the foreseeable future to save Gavin’s life.

He owed them so much it was suffocating him. Gavin tucked his face into Michael’s neck, tired and drained. He felt like he was underwater, holding onto a life preserver with a heavy iron anchor looped around his leg. There was nothing to do but sink.

Michael, like he felt the anxious tension in Gavin peaking, put a hand over Gavin’s eyes, blocking out the light for him. It was nice, but he couldn’t shake the voice in his head that pointed out once again that soon he’d be gone again.

When he dozed, it wasn’t because he was sleepy so much as it felt like his brain needed to just stop for a while before he started to really freak out. So, rest came, and as he flipped away, he vaguely heard Griffon say, “So, Gavin’s lab space is going need to be rebuilt. What are your plans, Michael?”

The rest he missed. He fell into blissful quiet for a long while. It was nice there; no one kidnapped him, he was warm, and Michael continued to smell lovely under his nose.

He missed the entire rest of the conversation, and in fact slept until night. It was late enough that the house was dark again and Gavin squinted into the darkness, looking for what had woke him up. It wasn’t immediately clear, but then Michael kissed his ear and whispered, “Come on. Bedtime.”

It was also two, and Gavin murmured, “How long were you going to let me sleep on you?”

“Fuck off, you’re cute when you’re sleeping.” He helped Gavin up. “I have to check your bandages.”

“Oh. Right.” He fell against Michael’s shoulder as they sat up, wanting his comfortable space back. He was aware that since the Extremis incident, he’d turned into a clingy bastard who demanded nothing less than all of Michael’s affection. He’d feel bad about it if Michael hadn’t taken that in stride and if he wasn’t already busy feeling guilty about everything else.

Michael picked Gavin up, expedient rather than romantic, and carried him upstairs. The house was still too quiet and Gavin tried to ignore the uncanny wrongness of it, focusing instead on Michael. He was set down on the bed as Michael went to get the bandages, gauze, and gel.

They’d done this already enough times it was old hand. Gavin knew exactly how to lift and tilt his arm so Michael could unwind old bandages from him, apply more gel, and wrap him back up. It was a steady, easy process that Gavin observed silently, looking forward to laying back down and sleeping.

Michael’s eyes cut to Gavin’s, lit by their own internal glow in the darkness. “Gav.”

“Hm?”

Michael didn’t say anything else for a long moment, steeling himself. “I was… I wanted to ask…” He shook his head hard, stopping and focusing on what he was doing.

“What is it?”

“It’s the… Gruchy ran his mouth a lot while he was here, a lot of stuff I didn’t know or…” He made a face. “Didn’t want to hear, maybe. I don’t know. But look, I get that I’m… intent and shit. On you. And maybe that’s more than you were signing on for.”

Gavin frowned, confused. “What?”

Michael paused again, so long that Gavin began to think he’d dreamt the whole stuttered conversation. Then, he cleared his throat and said, “I love you, right? And for me that means… it’s just you, okay?”

Gavin felt a wave of heat so strong he thought he’d melt, and not in the awful room-full-of-Extremis-goons way but the happy, soft way that made him feel like a cube of sugar dropped into warm tea. “Michael…”

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not a huge deal, but I… If this isn’t like that for you, that’s fine, but I sort of need to know?”

He cupped Michael’s cheek, running his thumb over the splash of freckles on his face. “What d’you mean?”

Sucking in a breath, he said fast, “Like the stuff Gruchy said. It’s-- fine, I mean, we have non-monogamy on my planet, we probably do it more than your people, actually, but I’m not…” He licked his lips. “Gavin, help me out here.”

Gavin smiled and wished he had use of both of his arms back so he could throw them around Michael and just hang onto him. “Michael,” Gavin said quietly. “Don’t be silly. And don’t listen to bloody _Dan_ , all right?” He giggled, stupid and happy. “I love you too, you dope, and that’s all there is to it, all right?”

MIchael looked up at him, tentatively hopeful. “Yeah?”

He answered by bending down, one hand braced on Michael’s shoulder, and kissing Michael, slow and chaste. Michael though surged up and grabbed Gavin’s head with more desperation than Gavin was expecting so late at night, kissing back harder and deeper.

It stung to be kissed like that and to think about Perth. Ten thousand miles away and change.

His own desperation igniting like kindling in face of Michael’s flame, Gavin poured everything he had into Michael and tried not to think of the distance.

* * *

 

Gavin’s bandages eventually came off, leaving him with a long span of soft crinkly scar tissue over his arm. It was hard not to pick at the skin, but he fought down the urge. He still applied Jack’s gel throughout the day, trusting it to take care of the lingering marks. He didn’t actually mind them much though; they were interesting to look at and touch, nevermind how Michael looked at them and kissed the curves of each one

Geoff thought he should get one of the marks tattooed, but the skin was still too weak and Gavin was still unsure if he wanted help remembering his treatment at the Extremis facility. What did not kill him made him stronger, but he’d take weak and less prone to weird bouts of panicked breathing and fear any day.

The day after the bandages came off, Gavin stirred in bed and found MIchael was gathering his dirty clothes and things in a proper laundry basket. He was quiet about it and Gavin lay there watching him, not bringing attention to himself.

He’d be leaving soon. He was getting his things clean and ready for his next trip.

Gavin didn’t know when it happened, that home stopped being a rustic, terrifyingly technologically advanced ranch house outside of Austin, but the thought of MIchael leaving and taking the only feeling of home left with him made Gavin want to scream.

He hid his face in the covers until Michael left the room, headed for the laundry room undoubtedly. Then he got dressed mechanically and went downstairs.

There was a fresh pot of coffee made. Gavin helped himself to a cup before looking around. He found Griffon sitting on the porch swing, wrapped up in a throw blanket and cupping her own mug of coffee in her hands. Even through the glass porch door, Gavin could see the steam rising from the mug, a sign of just how hot it was. She held it in her bare hands, undeterred.

Steeling himself, Gavin walked out onto the porch. “Mornin’.”

“Morning, sweetie.” She started to give him a smile before it faltered. “What’s wrong?”

It must’ve shown on his face. He grimaced and shrugged one shoulder, but let her beckon him to sit next to her on the swing. He drank some of the coffee and it felt like pouring water into something deep and hollow. “Michael’s leaving soon.”

“You’re upset,” she noted.

“Of course I’m upset. He’s going to Australia and I’m--” He stopped, shaking his head hard. The guilt in his chest threatened to swell and swallow him. “I know where I’m needed, I _do_ , but sometimes I just wish…” He bowed his head. “It’s crap. I know it’s crap, believe me, but sometimes I just wish I didn’t have to tell him goodbye.”

She was quiet for a long moment. Her arm went around his shoulders and he leaned into her. “Do you feel like… you’re being left? Because he always comes back, sweetie.”

“I know that! I do. But it feels like…” He licked his lips, nervous, fair sure he shouldn’t be telling Griffon this. She’d done so much for him and it was nice to at least _pretend_ not to be an ungrateful piece of shit. “I feel left behind sometimes.” Suddenly, her kind touch burned him, not with heat but the force of his own disgust with himself. “I’m sorry. I do understand, even if I act like I don’t a lot. I know I’m needed here, and--”

Griffon interrupted in a soft voice: “I want you to go with him.”

Gavin stopped. He froze, his breathing stilled, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he’d think his heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“Gav… Jesus.” She reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear. “When Dan was here and you started to treat Michael like shit, I was… happy.” He looked at her, brow furrowed. “Don’t look at me like you don’t know. That first day Dan was here, you just watched the pyrotechnics, don’t deny it.”

“I just…” That sick feeling in his stomach grew. He had. He’d done that. It’d felt-- nice. Nice to be fought over. It’d lost its shine fast but for the first day or so, yeah, he liked it.

“You were a childish shit,” Griffon said frankly. “And I was thrilled. Michael had been talking about his next trip, plainly wanted to take you along, and I didn’t want you to go.”

“And-- and that’s fine because we have work and the whole grooming thing you’re doing on me,” Gavin said quickly, needing her to know he _got it_ , especially after being called a child.

“Gavin, I wanted you here because I thought you were still a kid,” she said over him. “And… fuck, Gav, Michael isn’t. He’s a tempestuous bastard without a permanent address, and he fucking looks at you like Geoff looks at me, all right?”

“I don’t…” He didn’t understand why that upset her, but it plainly did, the lines on her face deepening.

She took their mugs and set them aside before taking Gavin’s hand in one of hers, cupping his face in her palm so he had to look at her dead on. “We found you and you’re ours,” she said like laying down immutable laws, like gravity and boiling points and time. “But you’re Michael’s too, and you need to go with him for a while.”

There wasn’t one word for the emotion that filled him like he was going to burst into smoke and confetti like a goddamn holiday cracker. There was hope crushed immediately by guilt and a wave of gratitude, and so much resignation and helplessness that it was hard to find the spare room to breathe. “I can’t. Griffon, we just lost so much with the facilities and-- and the _Austinion_ , you destroyed it because of me!”

“Stop that. Right now, Gavin.” She took his face in both hands, shaking him. “That wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t Dan’s. It wasn’t Michael’s. It wasn’t even _my_ fault,” she said, like she was just admitting as much to herself. “It was Heyman.”

“That doesn’t mean-- This is what I’m meant to do, isn’t it?” He stared hard at her, watching for any hint of direction in her new honey eyes. “We need to rebuild it all.”

“No, sweetie. Geoff and I are going to rebuild it.” She curled her hand over his left shoulder, over the tattoo. “This is not a brand. You’re not RE yet.” She smiled, watery and unsteady. “You will be one day, but this isn’t your entire life. I didn’t always run this company, and neither did Geoff. We had lives. We met and went backpacking together.” Her forehead leaned against his. “You need to go and see Australia and wherever else that thunderhead drags you off to. If there’s a radioactive sea monster off the coast of Hawaii, you need to go relax on the beach drinking Mai-Tais while Michael kicks its ass.”

“The Keys,” Gavin choked out. “I wanted to see--” He was cut off by Griffon pulling him in and crushing him in a tight hug. It didn’t hurt this time and he fell into it, shaking and holding on like he never wanted to let go.

Except he did. He wanted to.

And that was okay.

* * *

 

“Have you got it down to one bag?” Michael asked, throwing his duffle into the storage basket hanging off the side of the motorcycle.

It was a clear day, or the closest you got to those when Michael was around. There was a sun shower misting down on them and in the distance Gavin could see a bloody _rainbow_ that Michael refused to acknowledge every time he looked at it pointedly. Instead, he loaded up one of Geoff’s more travel-friendly motorcycles with birch beer and roast beef sandwiches and all of his earthly possessions.

Gavin was almost vibrating out of his skin in excitement. “Yeah, here.” He handed over his own duffle, packed full of clothes and essentials.

Michael took it, then rolled his eyes at the messenger bag that was slung over Gavin’s shoulder. “What the fuck is in that one, then?”

“Passport, laptop, tablet.”

“Ditch the laptop,” Michael said.

“What, why?”

“I said _one_!”

“Well they let people take one carry-on and one purse or bag!”

“This isn’t Michael Jones Airlines, I’m not carrying you and our bags and your hat box and the thing you saw in the gift shop that you just had to have and--”

Gavin threw his arms up. “I’ll leave the bloody laptop, my god but you whine.”

Michael grinned, his sour mood dropped immediately. “Thank you.” He turned and started to get things settled for the drive.

Gavin ducked back into the house, sighing as dramatically as he could as he took his laptop out of his bag and went to the closet to grab his jacket.

“Got everything?” Geoff asked. As he watched Gavin putz around, he got in one more hair ruffle.

Smoothing his hair back down, Gavin nodded. “And thank christ. If I gain a pound on the way to the coast, he’s going to throw me into the ocean, whining about things being heavy. He could juggle cars!”

“That doesn’t mean he _wants_ to,” Griffon said, coming downstairs. She pulled him in for tight embrace, squeezing his shoulders warmly before releasing him and taking his hand. “Here. Get your ears pierced while you’re away.”

She’d handed him a little felt jewelry box. Inside were two stud earrings, steely with a sleek translucent feel to them. “Austinion metal, left over from the second suit you made.”

His throat got tight and he nodded, pocketing the box. “I’ll just get over my fear of needles then,” he joked.

“You’ll like it,” Geoff said, tapping his own lobes with their hoops. “It’s addictive.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat.

Michael walked in from the garage. “Hey, ready?”

“You!” Griffon said, crossing over to him quickly and pulling him into a hug as well, just as fiercely. Her face pressed against his cheek, and she said something, too quiet for Gavin to hear. He could see the way Michael’s eyes widened as he nodded.

“I will. I promise, we will.”

“Good.” Griffon pushed him away, grinning. “All right. You’re wasting daylight.”

“As it were,” Geoff murmured, nodding to the window where it was still raining softly.

Gavin tucked his passport and tablet into his jacket pockets before joining Michael, linking their arms together. “Yeah, lets get going before you and your bloody rain irrevocably fuck Austin’s climate or something.”

“That is not how… Nevermind.” MIchael couldn’t keep from smiling as well, his dimples peeking out before his teeth flashed, quiet and warm. “Come on.”

They saddled up on the bike, Michael driving with Gavin tucked in close behind him. He turned the engine over and coasted them out of the garage, into the driveway.

“Helmets,” Griffon said, handing two over. Michael’s was plain black and shiny. Gavin’s was turquoise. He started to squawk about it, but stopped when he realized he didn’t actually care. There was too much bubbly excitement in him to let him be unhappy even for a moment. “Drive safe and stay in touch.”

“We will.” He latched his helmet on before holding onto Michael again. “I’ll call!”

“Keep safe!” Geoff said. He put a hand around Griffon’s waist, holding gently, and she nodded and waved mutely.

The first roll of the tires was terrifying, and Gavin clenched his hands hard in Michael’s jeans, bending to press flush to his back. Michael guided them off the property slowly, taking the gradual bends of the road easy. Outside the gates, he stopped, putting his foot down and his voice came to Gavin, muffled a bit by the helmets.

“Are you sure?”

Gavin leaned up, meaning to kiss him, only for their helmets to knock together. “Oh! Um.” He snickered. “I’m sure, Michael.” Settling, his hands went full around Michael’s torso, tucking under his leather jacket where he was toasty warm, fingers tracing over muscle and the faint lines of his ribs underneath. “Lets go then. Australia.”

“Perth, right.” Michael looked both directions, down the road, considering before he nodded. “This way.”

Riding off into the midday sun shower didn't have the same ring to it, but for the two of them it would do fine.


End file.
